


Taken

by MistressDragonFlame



Series: ABO - Naruto verse [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: A/B/O, Accidental Plot, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breeding Kink, Explicit Consent, F/M, Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Past Sakura/Sasuke, Praise Kink, Scent Marking, non-massacre, slight stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-01-20 21:04:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 34,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18533125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressDragonFlame/pseuds/MistressDragonFlame
Summary: Haruno Sakura was an Omega. She didn't let her status hold her back, becoming a Jounin of Konohagakure, a disciple of the Godaime Hokage, and the strongest shinobi in the village. All she had to ensure was that she managed her heats, and kept a respectful distance between herself and her Alpha teammates.After a disaster of a relationship with Uchiha Sasuke, she swore off the clan of elitist snobs, and thought herself better for it, no matter how attractive they may be. Meanwhile, a certain Uchiha has been harboring feelings beyond comradery for the pink haired Kunoichi for years, and wishes she would notice him.A mission goes wrong, and Sakura is forced to rely on Itachi during her heat. She knows playing with fire could get her burned, but maybe he just may be worth it.





	1. Sakura's Side Plot

**Author's Note:**

> Notes - an Alpha/Omega/Beta dynamic smut that turned into a story, because I need context and plot apparently. This world is not a typical A/B/O world, and is adjusted to that genitalia is not affected by the person’s status, heats affect females regardless of their status, and the person’s status doesn’t prohibit their position in the ninja world. Non-massacre. Non-beta'ed.

Sakura stretched her arms behind her head as she walked, feeling the pull of the muscle. She was dirty, sweaty, and knew in the morning she’d be achy, but she couldn’t help but grin. It had been a very good training for her; she had broken her record for both punches and lap speed of Training Ground 14 in one day. Now she was happily walking back to her apartment to shower, eat dinner, and relax with some sappy movie Ino told her about. The sun was setting, the weather was warm and pleasant, and the market place around hummed happily with life. It was a good day.

“Excuse me! Haruno-san?” A voice caused her to pause, when the quick padding of feet had not. Konoha always had shinobi running this way and that, so while she had marked the sound—kid needed to work on that—she didn’t turn until addressed.

“Yes?” She dropped her arms from her stretch and looked at the genin—undoubtedly newly minted from the Academy’s latest batch last month on a D-rank mission. The forehead protector certainly looked new enough, and had she ever looked that young? It had only been eight years since she graduated, but, really, he was so _small_.

“The Hokage... is requesting you... in her office,” the kid gasped between breaths. He needed to work on his stamina in addition to his stealth.

“Alright, thank you.” She patted him on the head briefly, and he swatted at her hand half heartedly, still trying to regain his breath.

She turned from her direction—the wistful knowledge of the leftover yakisoba from last night’s dinner calling to her from her fridge—but the Hokage, in addition to being her teacher and her village’s leader, was her Alpha. Had Sakura been anything other than an Omega, she still doubted she would disobey even a D-rank mission summons, but as it was, her nature thrilled slightly in the back of her mind. She wanted to please her Alpha, and if Tsunade wanted her she would go without delay.

An Omega had a easy life as a civilian, and a hard one as a shinobi. While in the civilian world, Beta dominated the populous; in the shinobi world, Alpha were the vast majority. Beta shinobi existed, and were more common than Omega, but their easy going nature rarely gave them the drive to compete with the Alpha on the battlefields. Beta had a mostly live and let live policy with Omega, and happily did support roles to anyone, but Alphas were driven to protect those under them—lesser Alphas, Betas, and most especially Omegas. Omegas in turn had an instinctual drive to please an Alpha, regardless if that Alpha was friend or foe. As a shinobi, this obviously was an issue, for both sides of the fight. Her Alpha teammates would take over her life if she gave them an inch, and she had to bind her sense of smell during missions to prevent even possible bias. Instincts weren’t orders, and as such could be ignored with focus. Still, it was safer despite it feeling like she lost a bit of herself each time.

Sakura knocked when she arrived at the Tower a few minutes later, and quickly received permission to enter. Tsunade, as was common, had a bottle of sake in one hand, and a scroll in the other. Her constant henge hadn’t changed in all the years Sakura had known the woman, so she still looked as as she had when she was a little older than Sakura herself. There was a masked ANBU member standing in front of the Tsunade’s desk, a little to the left, which was unusual. The members that guard the Hokage were never visible, so this one must be at least part of the reason she was here. Sakura was not ANBU herself, though she had attained the rank of jounin. She had participated a handful of times in ANBU missions to assist a delicate process, but had never joined the secretive group. Still, the long dark hair that hung down the shinobi’s back was familiar. His scent was masked by the specialty cloth all ANBU wore, but she had dealt with him enough times to recognize Uchiha Itachi despite the attempt at anonymity.

Sakura bowed once she entered into the space. “Shishou, you called for me?”

“Sakura-chan, good,” the Hokage said, putting aside the scroll. A tiny part of Sakura squirmed with happiness at even that slight praise, but she managed to keep her face lax. “I’ve a mission for you; it’s more urgent than usual, so this briefing couldn’t wait until morning.”

“Yes, Shishou,” She replied, standing at attention before her leader. Tsunade was her Alpha, as she was the Alpha for all shinobi in the village, and it was Sakura’s duty to obey. “What will I be doing?”

“The Daimyo of the third division has been poisoned,” Tsunade said, naming a minor lord of the western Fire Lands. She finished her mouthful of sake, then poured again. “The man responsible was caught, but he died before revealing what it was he used. I need you to ensure Zukomaru-sama doesn’t die from this, and hopefully, doesn’t have any lasting harm. He may be a toadstool to deal with, but his family has long supported Konoha. We can’t fail this.”

“Of course, Hokage-sama,” Sakura bowed again. Her eye flickered to the silent, still ANBU.

Itachi was, if it was possible, even more quiet than his notoriously stoic brother. She knew _of_ him for years before ever actually meeting him, as she was a teammate of Sasuke since she graduated. She officially met the man when she was sixteen and she had accepted the rare invitation into the Uchiha compound to celebrate Sasuke’s promotion to jounin. The meeting left her unnerved; he had been ANBU for longer than she had been a shinobi, one of the most powerful in the village and he had an intensity about him that she hadn’t encountered anywhere else. He had looked half-dead when she saw him, face overly lined, worn, and hair ill kept, and it was only later that she had learned he was in mourning from his girlfriend’s death two months prior. She was snapped at by Sasuke for asking any more details than that. Still, the initial meeting had her stepping on eggshells around the stressed Alpha, instincts certain that she had done something wrong to cause his displeasure. This had compounded upon her already delicate confidence, as she was at the tail end of the toxic and doomed relationship with Sasuke. It had taken everything she had not to flop to her back and expose her belly as soon as he had entered into the room.

Sakura suppressed a shiver, feeling his gaze upon her. He was a very powerful Alpha. It made a part of her wish to rub up against him and present her throat, but she stomped that bit down firmly. She knew better than to listen to _that_ particular instinct—it only wanted an Alpha to claim her, mate her, and impregnate her. It cared nothing for Sakura’s feelings on the matter, or even who the Alpha in question was. Thankfully she was far from her heat, and the instinct lacked any real strength.

“There is also another matter that you will not be dealing with personally, but should be aware of,” Tsunade continued. “We’ve recently received reports that Omega have gone missing in a village along the edge of our territory, about three days east of here, near the Land of Storms. Most recently it was the daughter of a local mayor, which finally spurred the man to come forward with the incidents. 

“The Daimyo’s home is a two day travel from the general area, but I don’t want to risk you unnecessarily. Itachi’s team,” she indicated the quiet man, who tilted his head in acknowledgement. Sakura realized that she had unknowingly stepped closer during the briefing, and made herself take a solid step away. “Will be serving two purposes. One is to escort you to and from the Daimyo’s palace. Then, they will depart and try to locate the missing Omega and put a stop to the cause of it.”

Sakura frowned slightly at the idea of having an entire ANBU team take an essentially C-class escort mission with her. She was a jounin for crying out loud, and had been for over three years now. She loved her mentor, but she didn’t appreciate the overprotectiveness she got in return. “I’m a jounin, Shishou. Do you really think that there will be a danger to me enough to warrant such an escort? It would be quicker to have Uchiha-san’s team head directly to the border town, and may make a difference to the Omega who were taken.”

“You’re strong, there is nothing against your abilities,” she soothed, “However, having a half dozen Omega disappear without a trace has made me a little paranoid.”

Sakura sputtered a bit, caught off guard with the number. “A half dozen?!” Omega were the most common kidnapped person, in particular females during their heat cycle, but it was rarely ever more than one or two. How had they only just heard of these incidents?

She grimmly nodded, “So you see my concern. You should be safe enough in the Daimyo’s palace, but Itachi will search it before departing. I trust his opinion about your safety while there; if he feels the need to leave a contingency, or wait until your mission is completed, than that is what he will do.”

Itachi tilted his head again in agreement to the order and assessment, and Sakura grumpily resolved herself to being under his unnerving eye. It wasn’t anything against him personally, he had been nothing but proper with her in all of their interactions. But she had a brief, horribly failed relationship with his brother that she knew _shouldn’t_ skew her perception of him, but that didn’t mean it didn’t. They were raised together, they had the same (elitist, discriminatory) family, so it would only be natural for them to share attributes beyond physical appearances. And she was not shy to admit that, like Sasuke, he was very, _very_ attractive.

“So, unless you have any more questions, you’re dismissed to get your things ready. I want you to depart tonight.”

“Haruno-san,” Itachi finally spoke, and Sakura turned to look at him again. “We will meet by the south gate in two hours. I would advise to pack for no less than two weeks. Food has already been taken care of.”

“Yes, Uchiha-san. Shishou,” Sakura nodded to her newly assigned babysitter, bowed to her teacher, and departed from the room. She had to go get ready.

**XXXXX**

Sakura upon reaching her home, firstly showered the training dirt and sweat off (not wanting to _start_ the trip feeling grimy), then changed into traveling clothes. She didn’t leave the village on missions often, either because of her Omega status or her skills at the hospital, but she still was able to recall her Academy lessons on how to pack for a mid-length mission with perfect clarity near a decade later. She didn’t have any pets or plants, but she wrote a note to leave on her table for her ever nosy teammates. They, especially Naruto, never seemed to learn that breaking into her apartment was _not_ an acceptable way to meet up—no matter the kinds of traps she set up. Kakashi once had to go around for a month with only one eyebrow from her firetrap, but that only seemed to make him more cautious breaking in than ceasing.

Lastly before departing, she ran her glowing hands over her arms and legs, to assist in breaking up the remnant lactic acid from her training. It wasn’t something she usually did, since it used up her chakra for something frivolous and negated some of the work out gains, but if she was going to travel through the night with an ANBU team, she knew she needed to or she would be useless by the time they arrived at her mission point.

She made her way to the meet point, quickly eating her leftover yakisoba cold and tossing the rest of her perishable food on the way.

She was early, but she was still the last to arrive. Itachi had changed from the standard ANBU gear into typical Uchiha attire, with an additional jounin flak jacket. Black, long sleeved shirt with the red and white fan, black pants that allowed his fishnet under layer to be visible before disappearing into his sandals. There were three others with him, undoubtedly his team in similar plainclothes; they must be intending to keep a lower profile than normal ANBU missions. One was a female Hyuuga, who watched her with a neutral expression, headband across her forehead indicating a member of the Branch house. Another was a Inuzuka, red tattoos on his face and a massive black dog dozing next to him. The last was the only one she knew personally, Shisui, who grinned as she approached. He had been ANBU nearly as long as Itachi, for all that he was a Beta. He was Sasuke’s favorite cousin, she first met him while still a genin, and he always was far more personable than any other Uchiha that Sakura ever met.

“ _There’s_ my favorite Haruno-san,” Shisui teased as she approached, a grin across his features with his arms spread wide.

“I’m the _only_ Haruno you know, Shisui-san.” She pointed out, stopping along the edge of the group, not quite entering their circle. The pack dynamics of a team were an interesting thing, but something she was very familiar with, as being a combat-medic made her a frequent guest to any number of teams. She knew better than to join the group without invitation, even if they were there mostly for her. She nodded to the Hyuuga and Inuzuka, who nodded in return.

“That’s why you’re my favorite.” He grinned unabashedly. Not the typical Uchiha smirk, but one that would better have fit a Uzumaki. She couldn’t help but match it. Betas were always such a pleasure to deal with, rare among the ranks they were.

“Haruno-san,” Itachi spoke up, and her eyes turned to lock upon him. He stood in the center of the group, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, the clear leader as all of their body language slightly tilted towards him. Her heart thumped once, as both instinct and her own preference aligned with his person. Man, he was pretty. “Have you made ready?”

“Yes, Uchiha-san. I have what I need to accomplish my mission,” She raised her pack slightly on her shoulder, showing off the semi-large scroll sticking out of the back slightly. She had tossed as many of her easily transported medical supplies into the scroll that she could think would help her. It had taken almost an hour of her allotted two to get everything sealed away.

He nodded, then held out his hands to her, beckoning. Only then did Sakura enter the team border, stopping when she was before him. Knowing what was coming, Sakura didn’t flinch as he grabbed her by the face, pulled her head down, and nuzzled into the top of her hair. It was no longer or shorter than what was protocol for such an action, his hands were warm and delicate against her cheeks. His smell—warm, slightly spicy, masculin, _Alpha_ —enveloped her as her face was pulled close to his chest. It was unfair how wonderfully he smelled, how she wanted to lean further into him because of it. He let go once done and she ensured she stepped back, away from him but now within the circle of the team, an accepted temporary member by the scent mark she now bore.

As an Omega, Sakura’s instincts always thrilled at the mandatory claim that team leaders did to their subordinates before each mission (something that had always irritated both Naruto and Sasuke, each strong Alpha). Such claims always had a noticeable effect on the dynamic of the group, something she only fully comprehended when her Team 7 had temporarily worked with Team 9 during her first chuunin exam. Even she, a budding pre-presentation Omega at the time who had been the one to suggest the temporary truce, had tensed whenever Tenten, Neji, or Lee tried to do anything with her or her team, because she felt that they just _couldn’t_ be trusted, that they didn’t _belong_. It had been absurd since they had quite literally just saved her and her teams life. During the debrief after, it was pointed out that neither group had done an acceptance mark to any other.

He pushed against the wall, standing to his full height. He was not the tallest male she knew, and he was slender in a way that indicated speed vs strength. Nothing in his physical bearing indicated power, but still, as he moved everyone in the team followed his lead without pause. They passed through the gate, signing out with the chuunin guards, and made their way to the road. While they were all Konoha ninja, and as such trained to travel from branch to branch, there was a road that traveled nearly directly from the village to the city where the Daimyo resided. Travel by road was not only faster and less chakra consuming, but was also encouraged by the Hokage to ensure that the roads remained clear from bandits, allowing the merchants to travel in safety.

Itachi set a quick, but steady pace as they left the village. He took point, and she and Shisui took positions behind him. The Inuzuka and his hound split and ran along side and slightly back, with the Hyuuga taking position last, completing the diamond pattern. The sun had just finished setting when they left, so they ran in the dark, no more than shadows as they sped along.

They traveled for hours, speeding by the occasional fire where a merchant or genin team had bedded down for the night. One of the latter must have been an Inuzuka, because the still unnamed one she was traveling with disappeared for a bit, only to return with a smug grin as a barking, yelling ruckus raised up behind them. Itachi, his sharingan glowing in the evening, glance back at his teammate, but said nothing.

Eventually they veered off the road, and took to the trees. Itachi paused on a particularly large one, signalling without words for his team to scout about. She and the two Uchiha remained in the tree, quiet and unmoving as the better suited of the group cleared the area. Sakura was glad for the breather; she had spent most of the day training, and so was already tired before even departing. She had no doubt that Itachi had taken this into account when he caused a halt, since the other team members seemed able to press on.

Her suspicion was confirmed as he set the watch when the others returned, “Standard watch rotation three. Haruno-san, you are excused from this. You should rest and recover.”

Sakura was mildly irritated at being excused from the rotation—she was fully capable of standing watch, thank you—but took it in stride and didn’t protest. It was logical; done because she needed to be in top form when they arrived, not because she was the Omega.

Shisui, weirdly, nudged Itachi with his elbow before he left to setup the perimeter traps, a grin tugging at his lips. Itachi ignored him, dropping to the ground without another word. She knew that they were best friends, and it was uncommon that either one was sent on a mission without the other, mostly because Sasuke told her such when they still had been on Team 7 together. She had some experience with being with them separate and together, but not enough to give insight to their silent joke.

Sakura chose a particularly knotted junction of a nearby tree to set up her sleeping bag, knowing that they would not be building a fire for the evening. She ate an apple she had saved from her perishables, drank some water, and let herself fall asleep to the sound of the late spring evening. The slight, cloying scent of Itachi teased her nose from his mark. She tried not to focus on it.

**XXXXX**

They came to the palace in the late morning after a full two day travel. Sakura was able to learn the names of the two other teammates, Hyuuga Kaede, and Inuzuka Shinoto, and find out that it had been the brother of Shinoto, out on his first excursion from the village as a shinobi after graduating that caused the older ninja to mess with him as they passed. He was as brash an Alpha as the rest of his clan was, and his dog, Kagemaru, was relentless with his desire to be pet. Kagemaru was nearly bowling her over on her lap before Itachi stepped in and pulled the dog off. Kaede was near enough Shinoto’s opposite, quiet and thoughtful. She was not a strong Alpha, and mostly only spoke when she agreed to something someone else had said. Shisui, of course, was just as easy to converse with as they previously had. After the first night, they stopped for an hour at lunch, and then again for dinner before continuing for a couple more hours of travel into the night. Both meals they had a small fire, but when they slept they did not. Sakura enjoyed herself during the travel, despite being constantly aware of where Itachi was at all times.

The day of their arrival, Sakura sighed and did the hand seals to bind her nose. It heavily muted the smells of the world around her, but she needed to ensure she could keep a clear head when dealing with the Daimyo. Her nose tingled unpleasantly for a while, but it was not something that would distract her.

Itachi remarked all of them so that they were able to be clearly identified as a team when they arrived. Shisui was the only one to do more than stoically bare it, as he used the head grab motion to try and nuzzle Itachi’s neck in return, a far more intimate mark. The younger Uchiha was apparently expecting this, and firmly planted a hand over Shisui’s face and pushed him off before he was successful. Shisui pouted hard enough that it caused Sakura to giggle, which only drew his teasing nature back to her.

“Admit it, you’d like to do it to him too,” he whispered in her ear, a grin stretching across his face.

He—giving rise to his moniker—shunshined away before her fist could connect. She did _not_ have such thoughts, no matter how nicely he smelled, or how pretty he was. She stomped away before her face could betray her and flicker towards her team leader. Itachi was always polite, but very formal with her, never even hinting at an interest beyond that. Not that she wanted his interest. She knew better than to pursue anything with a Uchiha, let alone the heir. They were all elitist snobs, even worse than the Hyuuga; the clan head, Uchiha Fugaku, had even told her to _her face_ that she wasn’t worthy when she was _fourteen_. Not even Shisui was excluded from the snobbery, though he tended to make fun of his clan more than others. Uchiha were bad news, and that was final.

They eventually made their way to the palace, beyond the gated wall. It was tiny in comparison to the one around Konoha, and wouldn’t have slowed them down at all if Itachi hadn’t led them to the gate. It was a pleasant surprise, actually. Naruto or Sasuke would have just continued on past the guard point without a care, and made the poor men chase after them, causing all sorts of unnecessary hassle. Itachi signaled two fingers, causing both Shinoto and Shisui to branch off, taking a patrol around the outside of the building without a word before they approached the gate guards.

Once inside, they were quickly met by someone wearing much finer material than the guards outside, undoubtedly someone of importance. Surprisingly, she was both a female, and an Omega. Sakura couldn’t smell her status from this distance with her jutsu activated, but she could practically _feel_ her two companion Alphas taking more of an interest in the woman, their natures wanting to protect the stranger from whatever caused the stress. She could also see the woman curl somewhat into herself from their attention, shy against the unknown Alphas.

“Welcome,” She bowed. She was very attractive, with her sand colored hair, tanned complexion, and perfect make up. Sakura refused to feel shabby in comparison, having just traveled for three days in the woods. “I am Momoko, the chief of staff.” She straightened, and looked over the three shinobi with some hesitation. “Are… are you from—ah, _you’re_ the omega healer?”

Sakura grinned; she got that reaction a lot. It was probably the pink hair. “That’s correct. Hokage-sama is very invested in Zukomaru-sama’s health. Can you take us there now?”

“R-Right this way.” They quickly made their way through the palace, passing by the occasional guard or servant. The staff all either staired as they passed, or quickly left the area, unfamiliar with shinobi.

As they walked, Momoko filled in details about the situation. “The Daimyo was poisoned by his sake, we believe, since the former chief of staff was also affected and that was the only thing they had shared.”

“There was more than one casualty?” Itachi asked. Sakura was unsurprised he was taking the lead with the interview, since his clan populated almost the entirety of the Konoha police force. She noticed his eyes, red with the Sharingan, scanning the rooms and people as they past rather than watch Momoko. It probably wasn’t helping the civilian’s opinions of shinobi.

“Yes, Shinobi-san,” Momoko dipped her head, keeping her eyes averted. “Shabuto-dono, my predecessor, was chief for decades, and a good friend to Zukomaru-sama. He did not survive the poison.”

“Who was the person to discover them?” He continued.

“Masaku-san, one of the guardsmen.”

“I will need to speak with him, and the rest of the workers.

“Of course.” She bowed, then paused at a door, much more lavishly decorated then the ones they had passed before. “Zukomaru-sama has been kept as comfortable as we can since the incident.” And she slid open the door, ushering them inside.

As eager as Sakura was to see her new patient, she still held back as Itachi entered the room first. It was only a brief pause, something she doubted any civilian would have noticed, but she knew that he had completely cased the room and likely made no less than five plans and contingencies about what to do if it was a trap, ambush, or contained hostile entities. She knew this because Sasuke told her that’s what he did entering _every_ room. 

She shivered. He was crazy powerful. Paranoid, maybe, but definitely powerful.

At Itachi’s barely there hand motion, both she and Kaede entered into the space. Sakura quickly moved to the bed, where the still, elderly figure lay. She noticed a servant, another woman, clutching a wet cloth and bowl sitting at his side. Another was fiddling with what looked to be a tea set. Both were wore matching kimono, hair and makeup done just enough to flatter their appearances without hindering their jobs. She turned to the nearest. “Go fetch a fresh bucket of water, please.

The servant was wide eyed, staring, until Momoko indicated that Sakura was to be obeyed. Then she ducked her head and scurried away. The other woman kept her movements subtle, focused on the task of heating tea. _Omegas_ , Sakura’s mind supplied, tracking the servant’s movements.

Well, that was interesting. Sakura didn’t pause at the thought as she began her medical assessment of the lesser Daimyo. Omegas were rare, making up about one percent of the populous. Sakura herself had only one other Omega in her class, and that was only because the other was a clan heiress. The class above and below hers for two years each way had none.

While it wasn’t uncommon for omega to work together, having no less than three in close proximity, disincluding herself, was noteworthy in and of itself. It was even more telling that each of the women were beautiful. ‘“ _Kept comfortable_ ,”’ she allowed her inner thoughts to snark, ‘ _More like maintain a Harem to care for his every need_ ,’ she grumped, naming the derogatory term of a group of Omega.

Omega tended to have a relaxing effect on Alpha. Kakashi told her once that it was like stepping from a chilled room into the warm sunlight. Not mind changing, but definitely a pleasant sensation. She could only assume that more had a compounding effect; she had rarely worked with even one other Omega, so she was only hypothesising. Powerful Alpha, mostly men, tended to keep Omegas as servants and concubines when they could get away with it. It was something that Sakura disliked most about being what she was, and why she fought so hard to ensure her instincts never led her to be some mindless devotee. Like she had been to Uchiha Sasuke.

“Haruno-san, would you like assistance?”

Sakura looked up from her work, meeting the white gaze of Kaede. She looked around briefly and realized that Itachi had departed, as well as Momoko. Probably to conduct his investigation, scope out the palace for threats against her, and terrorize the local populous. She blinked and made herself turn back to the remaining teammate. “That would be wonderful, thank you. Do you have experience with a medical laboratory, Hyuuga-san?”

Kaede nodded.

“Great! Can you take my scroll and find a place to set up my lab? Once I’ve extracted as much poison as I can, I’ll need to use the lab to make a antidote.”

Kaede nodded again, and grabbed the overly large scroll from Sakura’s bag. She went over to the still unnamed tea-servant, and smiled down at her. The servant kept her eyes averted, and bobbed a quick bow before departing, evidently having listened into the brief conversation.

Sakura went back to her work, both healing the damage and extracting what little remained of the poison. It was an interesting concoction, found more towards Suna than Konoha, with the root of it being a venom from a spider the size of her head. Thankfully, she had spent a cumulative year in Suna through the years, training in their poisons and healing techniques in exchange for her training them in medical techniques. She was well acquainted with the aptly termed Monster Spider, and it’s venom.

Sakura had a small ball of blue-black poison in her water encased hand, and the color had somewhat returned to the lined face of the Daimyo by the time she was disturbed again.

“Haruno-san,” Itachi’s smooth voice washed over her, and she looked up to see him standing a little more than an arm’s reach from her. It was a polite distance, and his voice had been pitched low enough to not startle her from her work. It still caused an involuntary shiver up her spine. Damn him.

She blinked and looked around, realizing that night had fallen in the time she was focusing. “Yes, Uchiha-san? I’m almost finished here, for now.”

He nodded, “The team will be leaving in the morning, before dawn. I have assessed the palace and it’s guard. I could not find any particular danger in the area, though I would advise you to keep on your guard. When you have accomplished your mission, please remain in the palace until we have come back to collect you. It should be no more than seven days from tomorrow. I will send a message should new information come to light.”

“I understand, Uchiha-san,” She nodded, finishing her jutsu by dropping the excess water into the bucket and coaxing the globual into a vial she pulled from her medic bag. “It shouldn’t take me more than two days to make this antidote. But I’ll need a few more to ensure Zukomaru-sama is back to full health, so our timelines should mostly aline.”

He nodded, paused, and blinked. “Are you aware of your assigned quarters?”

Sakura shook her head as she stood from the chair she had been working in. She stretched, popping her spine. She had been stationary too long, especially after her travel. She knew she should shower, but she needed to get the concoction started before she allowed herself that luxury.

Unfortunately, Itachi just stared at her with a blank expression when she tried to assure him she could make her way to the room by herself. Ugh, stupid paranoid Alpha.

And so he followed her to where her laboratory had been set up, in an side tea room, where she spent the next half hour first arranging the room to her liking, then another to start the simmer process for the solution. He then surprised her by first leading her to the kitchen, and ensuring she was made a dinner plate—apparently, she had missed the official one. She tried not to think about it too hard. He was a captain, he undoubtedly always ensured his team was taken care of.

She eventually was led to the room where she would be staying for her trip, and where the rest of the team were also staying the night. She knew that if he had wanted, Itachi as team leader could have arranged separate bedrooms, but undoubtedly his paranoia had surfaced again. She eyed the tactical way the futons were set out—Itachi near the entrance, Kaede near the bathroom door, Kagemaru and Shinoto along the east wall under the window. She sighed, accepting the fact that she’ll be sandwiched between the Uchiha. Again.

She took her time in the connected shower, having been the last to arrive for the evening. She heard Shinoto quietly bickering with Kagemaru as they settled for the evening, the latter whining in dog speak that only the Inuzuka could understand. “I know it’s cramped, but it’s just for the night. No, I’d _not_ rather be outside. Hush, don’t cause a racket, they don’t realize you’re inside. Are you going into shed? Don’t lie, there’s fur _everywhere_.”

Sakura finished in the shower, changing into her sleepwear for the first time since packing them. Ah, the comforts of civilization. She brushed her teeth, combed and towel dried her hair, and stepped quietly back into the room. Kaede and Shisui were already asleep, as far as Sakura could tell. Shinoto was curled forcefully around Kagemaru, ensuring the dog didn’t wriggle away in the night to shed over the rest of them. The latter gave her a pitiful look as she walked by, undoubtedly wanting sympathy pets, but she just carefully stepped around the dog. She didn’t want any of his shed on her.

Itachi was sitting quietly on his futon, eyes glittering in the darkness. She ignored how regal he looked in the dark, fiddling with a piece of armor, his face softened by the light of the moon as it shown through the window. She settled onto her futon, feeling her spine pop pleasantly as she got comfortable on her back, hands tucked behind her head.

“Goodnight, Haruno-san.”

She opened one eye, looking at the Uchiha heir in the dark, but his face didn’t reveal anything. Like usual. “Goodnight, Uchiha-san.”

It was quiet in the room, as even in sleep the shinobi around her were trained to be silent.

“Ugh, will you stop _squirming_ , Kagemaru?!” Came the harsh whisper, breaking the night.

“Kagemaru, if you don’t stop on your own, I _will_ Hyuuga neck pinch you to sleep.” Kaedes’ irritated voice threatened, all the more ominous for how little she spoke on her own.

Sakura huffed and turned over, hiding her grin. She was going to miss them while they were gone. If nothing else, they were entertaining.

**XXXXX**

The next morning dawned too early. Sakura was only half aware when she was pulled to a sitting position by strong hands, Itachi kneeling across from her. He remarked her hair, and told her to be cautious and safe, and then the entire team was just _gone_. She sighed and nearly flopped back into bed, but instead dragged herself up to get ready for the day. She needed to check on her patient, and continue the brewing of the antidote.

When she emerged from her morning cleansing routine, she was awake enough to notice the tray of breakfast that had been left for her. The note was not signed (reading merely, _Eat before you forget_ ), but she raised it to her nose and—yes, Itachi had wrote this, figures. His spicy, Alpha sent reminded her to reapply her jutsu, and the unpleasant tingle took up residence in her sinuses.

She ate, changed, left the tray outside her door, and departed for Zukomaru’s quarters. Momoko met her as she reached the room.

“Haruno-san, I must say we’re all rather pleased with your progress so far,” she smiled, her face once more painted beautifully. Sakura couldn’t fathom how much time and energy was spent tending to her appearance. She wasn’t terrible with applying makeup in her own right—though henge was the preferred method for most things—but she could never come close to the flawless work of Momoko. The chief of staff looked notably less stressed than the day before.

Sakura smiled in return, happy with the praise, “Of course, Momoko-dono. I’m happy that I was able to assist Zukomaru-sama in his recovery.”

“This is Suki and Hana,” She indicated the uniformly dressed women from before. They wore different kimono, but were otherwise the same as before. Suki had dark orange hair, well tanned skin and dark brown eyes. Hana had nearly opposite coloring, with blue hair and pale blue eyes almost white in color. After the initial sighting the day before, both only popped in long enough to deliver supplies, never stopping to speak. “They will serve as your assistants while you’re working on Zukomaru-sama.”

Well, she always wondered what it would be like to work with fellow Omega. She supposed this would be her chance. She eyed between the two Omega as Momoko bowed and departed, feeling none of the ‘sun rays’ Kakashi had told her about. They watched her curiously in return.

“Do either of you have experience with medical processes?”

When both replied, in near unison, the negative, Sakura sighed. Well, it was better than no help at all, she supposed.

She got them to work, mostly fetching this, tossing that. She started in the lab, adding the herbs required for the next boiling session. She then went back to check on Zukomaru again, noting that he would probably awaken sometime that evening. The Omegas were obedient, which she supposed was a nice turn from struggling against obtuse Alpha all day. Unlike Beta, who had their own ideas about what should be done and why, the women were more… she could only describe it as devoted, to the task. If nothing else, it was a nice change of pace even if she couldn’t sense a difference with their status.

The day past, and she was happy to note that the antidote was brewing nicely. Zukomaru awoke early, and was able to be fed some soup by Suki before he passed out again, a good sign. Sakura ate between tasks, which was more than she got when she did a rotation at the hospital. Here, at least, she only had one patient to worry about. In fact, it was almost dull in comparison, long lulls between activity.

It was dusk when Momoko found her again, as she was adjusting the bunsen burner over the solution. Hana was in the back of the room, mixing a tea concoction for lack of anything else to do. There wasn’t much to do but wait in these final stages.

“Sakura-san, how is it going?”

“Momoko-dono,” She greeted, “I have the antidote nearly completed. Once this is applied to Zukomaru-sama, he will make a full recovery.” She moved to the other table where her mortar and pestle were. There wasn’t any need for more herbs to the antidote, but she had the time to spare so she worked on some pet projects.

“What else needs to be done?”

“The solution needs to reduce by half, than have more water added. Once it’s reduced three more times, it should be concentrated enough to function as it needs to.”

“That’s very impressive, Sakura-san. We were certain that this was an incurable solution. We’re pleased to have you join us,” she smiled, taking a step closer.

“Hokage-sama would only send the best for Zukomaru-sama.” Sakura glanced at the Omega. Something was off about that, but she couldn’t quite…

“Sakura-san,” Hana spoke up, having approached on Sakura’s other side.

The kunoichi turned just in time to see the woman blow into her plate, scattering a cloud of powder right into her face. Sakura gasped instinctively, springing away from the sudden assault, only to trip as her aim was thrown off by overpowering coughs. Tears flowed down her painfully irritated eyes, making her clench her eyes against the sensation.

What? What was happening?! Why are they—

She felt a hand touch her shoulder, and reflexively she grabbed and tossed it and the owner away from her. She heard a shriek and a crash, and then she was darting to where she remembered the door was. Only she stumbled over her own feet, her lungs burning, and she felt a piece of paper stick to her forehead and then felt nothing

**XXXXX**

She awoke slowly. Her eyes and throat felt swollen, irritated. She felt lethargic, weak as a newborn kitten. Forcing her eyes open, she looked down to her numbed hands and spied the harsh shackles that bound her wrist. Thick, iron bands, bound with dozens of seal slips. While normally she’d be able to easily harden her skin and twist her way free of the metal, she recognized some of the seals as being chakra suppressors. Oh no.

Her mind was sluggish, not able to focus on a thought longer than a moment. Still, she propagated the strange powdery substance used to subdue her as _poisoned sea urchin spines_ , likely mixed with some flower to enable it to disperse better in the air. It would definitely explain her uncontrollable coughing, the eye irritation, and her swollen throat.

She forced herself to focus on that thought, and examine how irritated her eyes and throat still were. Given the time of disbursal after exposure to powdered spine, she estimated she had been knocked out for at least three hours, but no more than five. She was currently laying on a thin mattress, swaying; she assumed she was on a cart of some kind

She groaned, shifting the heavy weight of her shackles. They bound her wrists together, a thinner chain binding her neck, and a thick chain dangling down to her twice bound legs. The chain was short enough that she couldn’t extend her legs without yanking on her neck, and the bindings across her ankles and knees only allowed minimal movement.

“Oh, you’re awake,” A head popped into Sakura’s vision, a short mess of white hair in a cherub face. It was wonderfully made up, and Sakura only had the briefest moment to think _Omega_ , before the woman reapplied the seal to her forehead, and out she went.

The next time she awoke, she felt much better, the world was not moving around her, and there was an Alpha staring down at her.

She jerked back instinctively, yanking her face out of his hands, and she attempted to scramble out of his lap. Unfortunately, she was still bound by iron, and the bed was much too small to get as far away from him as she’d prefer.

“Now, now, my Sakura,” he purred intimately, and Sakura _hated_ the bit of her that perked up at the tone. His face was handsome enough, but more plain than noteworthy. He had a straight, long nose, warm brown eyes and black hair, an a full mouth that had been split by a weapon at some point, as it scarred down his chin on the left side. He was noticeably older than her, flecks of grey at his temples, but not as old as Tsunade. “No need to be afraid.” He spoke with a slight accent, Land of Stone in origin. He didn’t wear a headband, but he also was plainly dressed, so he still could be a shinobi. Given that these were fuuinjutsu seals, she knew either he had to be one or someone who worked for him was.

“Who are you?” She croaked.

“Who I am is not important at this moment,” he spoke softly, reasonably. He carefully reached behind him to the table, close enough to touch without standing, and retrieved a tin cup, “Come, you must be thirsty."

“What do you want?” She asked instead, ignoring her parched throat.

“What I want? Hm, that’s simple. I want _you_.”

She breathed out slowly through her nose at that, trying to calm her suddenly racing thoughts and heart. Given the care in which she was taken, and the particular seals on her restraints, it was clear this was a targeted kidnapping. If it was targeted, that meant he—whoever he was—knew who _she_ was, and knew her relationship with the Godaime Hokage. If he knew that, he knew that the Godaime would never stand for her apprentice to be taken, and he was confident enough in himself to be able to hide her from all of Konohagakure.

“Sakura, it would please me for you to drink this.” He spoke softly, coaxingly, eyes on her with all the focus that only an Alpha could produce.

She took a breath, and realized that her nose binding jutsu was gone. She licked her lips and refused to look at the glass of water. “Tsunade-sama will never allow you to take me.”

“Oh? Not even if that’s what _you_ wish?” He smiled softly, and reached out a hand to touch her face. She jerked her head out of his reach, but he persisted. “I’ve had many years of taming Omegas into my collection. You will come to me like the others, and I will happily allow your Tsunade-sama to question about what you really want. Is she the kind of Alpha to deny her favorite student who she loves?”

Sakura’s heart twisted in her chest, even as his soft touch danced delicately across her face. Omega, in addition to being the most kidnapped, were also very prone to succumbing to Stockholm syndrome. It was when a captive, kept long enough, started to trust, love, and sympathize with their captor, eventually swaying to their beliefs to the point of fighting their original compatriots to support the new dream.

“Collection?” She closed her eyes, to hide her sudden fear. She had to keep him talking, to gain information.

“Yes,” He finally withdrew his hand, and she was grateful. “My loves. I make sure they’re safe, cared for, and protected, and they serve me in turn, as will you. You will make my 25th acquisition, and the only one with pink hair. You’re the only Omega I’ve ever heard of with such coloring. It is remarkable, and matches your name so well. And your eyes...” His hand was back, pushing some hair out of her face, and she hated him and _hated_ the bit of her that squirmed with the praise.

_Get it together, Haruno!_

“Will you not drink? It’s been a while since you’ve been able to.” He pled softly again, and she clenched her hand to prevent it from even twitching towards him.

“How do I know it’s not drugged?”

“Oh, it is,” He responded simply enough that it caused her eyes to shoot open and lock onto him. “It’s part of the taming process. I’ve found a full heat always encourages attachment, and we’re on more of a timeline with you than I’d prefer to be.”

Sakura’s blood ran cold, and she renewed her scrambling to get as far away from him as possible on the small bed. Her heat, which occurred in the fall and was several months away, made her particularly fertile, bumped up her sex drive until it was frankly uncomfortable, and males as far away as a hundred meters could smell the change, becoming focused on her. She, and every other kunoichi of age, managed it by taking suppressants that lowered the heat to just be mildly annoying, made the men around her just particularly friendly than obsessive, even if it couldn’t take away the ever present need away entirely.

The last time she had a full, unsuppressed heat was when she was thirteen, and it had occurred while on an away C-class mission with Team 7. Kakashi had, upon reflection, freaked out when he realized what was happening, and had located a safe box in the woods miles away from where they were returning from delivering a scroll. The man had no idea how to handle a child’s first heat, let alone an Omega’s, so she was left completely alone in the shack for three days, trapped, miserable, uncertain of what was going on, and so, so desperately lonely that she cried even months later if she was left alone too long. When Tsunade had learned of what he did, she nearly punted him through the wall of the Hokage tower, even if it had been almost eight months since the incident. She grounded him from missions and made him write a three page essay as to why it had been such a horrible thing to have done, with Sakura correcting the grammar and spelling on it for him before she accepted it, and then made him formally apologize to Sakura.

Of course, by then, it didn’t matter if Sakura knew psychologically why what he did affected her. She just craved Alpha attention and affection, particularly desperately while in her heat, and had a bone deep terror of abandonment that no suppressant could cure. It had been that terror, that desolate desire for real caring, that had finally made her realize that Sasuke just didn’t love her like she loved him, and likely never would. Even still, she hadn’t been able bring herself to break up with him until after her cycle completed, self-hatred over willingly subjecting herself to his pathetic overtures to a relationship or not.

“Get away from me, you monster!” Sakura nearly screeched, her panic mounting. She could not have her heat _here_ , with _him_. She kicked out as much has her bindings could allow, making contact at least with the cup. It was knocked out of his grip, and it skittered across the floor.

“Oh!” He jumped up from his spot on her bed, slow enough that in the back of her mind she had to question whether he was even a ninja. “I am disappointed you did that.” He took a breath, watched her with those eyes, calculating and focused, and then grabbed her by the ankles.

She was yanked back down onto her back, and suddenly there was a hand on her belly and another wrapped around her throat. She shrieked, bucked, her skin crawling from where he touched her in such vulnerable locations. She twisted her hands in the chain, and managed to knock his hands free of their position, though she didn’t manage to wrap him in the links. He scrambled back onto the bed, and they grappled, him trying to pin her and her trying to break free. She was more skilled than he was by a large margin, but she was already bound, and he was stronger with the seals sapping her strength. She screamed, hurled insults, threats, but did not allow herself to beg.

He eventually managed to trap her, legs wrapped hers, one arm clenched tight to her abdomen and the other clamped painfully around her mouth. He painted harshly in her ear, the blood trickling from his broken nose sliding down her neck. She trembled, but refused to cry.

“Shh, shh,” he panted, still softly despite his lack of breath and injury, “You’re scared and that’s alright.” _Fuck_ **_you_** _, you slimy piece of shit. You’re the cause of this!_ “I’ll be here through the entire thing ensuring you’re being taken care of.” She didn’t want him during her heat! She’d rather stab him with a kunai! “It’ll be alright.” He nuzzled into her neck, marking her intimately, and the only thing preventing her from cringing away was the still tight grip he had on her face.

He kept murmuring to her, quite words, never hateful or harsh, until her trembling stopped. Then he kissed her delicately on the cheek, “I’m going to get some more water for you. Once you’ve drank that, then I can get you something to eat. Good girl,” he kissed her again, then slowly extracted himself.

He must have had at least a little training, because he was able to dodge out of the way of her lunge. Her chains tangled her, and she fell heavily to the floor at his feet.

“I’ll be back soon, my dear Sakura,” and he was gone.

Sakura crawled back onto bed, the spot farthest from the door. She shook, not so much nerves now that her adrenaline had already worn away, but from the fear. She was trapped in a tiny room, with no windows, and only a singular, solid steel door. The walls were made of undoubtedly reinforced concrete, and the furnishings were bolted to the nearest surface. In addition to the bed, which was absurdly soft and comfortable, there was a singular table with a bench chair across from her, and a chamber pot in one corner.

She had been taken from the Daimyo’s palace; undoubtedly the entire poisoning was meant to get her away from her village. Tsunade and Team 7 wouldn’t even know of her disappearance for weeks, since she was slated to return two week after her departure. Itachi’s team had left that morning—the previous morning? What time was it? How long had she been out?—and would still be traveling to the next mission point, and wouldn’t think of returning for days. That was if the other mission point hadn’t been designed to lure her team away from her, which she had no doubt it had been. So that meant even longer.

She licked her dry lips again, and didn’t think about the wet spot on the mattress and floor where she had spilled the water from earlier. She knew the body could survive for three days without any liquids before it began breaking down past the point of no return. If she was lucky, she could survive for five, if the temperature in the room didn’t rise any. 

She knew enough herblore to know likely the combination of drugs her captor was intending to use, especially since the water had a somewhat floral scent. Hibiscus flowers, Fire Lotus root, and powdered bone of the Empire snake. It would take anywhere from one to three glasses of water to have the desired effect on her, depending on how concentrated the additive was and how starved and dehydrated she was.

Her best bet was to wait, and hope someone would come and rescue her. She suppressed the rising fear in the back of her throat, the familiar sensation of being trapped and alone. Someone would come.

Anyone.

**XXXXX**

The man, who she eventually started to refer to as Captor since he never gave a name, could have given Morino Ibiki a run for his money with the psychological torture. Not that torture was quite the correct term. He was always nice, thoughtful, _caring_. He brought her changes of clothes (which snapped closed around her limbs, allowing her manacles to remain on) and bedding, changed her chamber pot, a soft damp rag which he used to clean her, and always ensured there was a small jug of water and cup left behind him. Even after she destroyed one tin set, smashing it to bits in his absence, he merely cleaned it up, and brought her another. He never spoke harshly to her, merely expressed his disappointment in her actions, and told her how much it would please him if she just drank. She never saw anyone else, and he never smelled like any other Omega, though he talked of his ‘collection’ enough for her to always easily recall that they were there. He knew exactly what to do.

Sakura lost track of time. He never came at set hours, and his stay always varied. Without meals, or sunlight, she had no idea what time it was, or how long had past. He probably planned it that way.

Captor’s most recent absence was the longest yet, damn him, and it was finally when she decided that it was better to suffer through a heat than die alone in this cell. She had intended just to drink a cup, to pace her drinking, but she was unable to stop herself from consuming it all. Her hands shook, her stomach rolled, but she knew medically she was already in the early stages of dehydration shut down. She had been able slow down enough to prevent her from throwing up the precious liquid, but not from consuming it all.

Her earlier supposition was correct, that the drugs probably would affect her quicker the longer she delayed. She fell asleep with a belly full of blissful water, and then awoke to a deep _wanting_. It filled her lungs, tingled at her toes, and her lower stomach was replaced with fire. She _ached_.

She lay in the bed, panting, hands unable to reach herself to give even some relief.

Hours, eons, seem to pass, and the want only got worse. She was still thirsty, hungry. And she was so _alone_. She whimpered, thinking desperately that anyone, even Captor, would be better than being so very, very alone. She could keep her mind about her, she knew she could, if he, if someone, was just there. Even Sasuke would be welcome at this point, and the last time they had spoken was when he confronted her two months after she had left him, only just then realizing that she had. She had kicked his ass, and told him never to contact her again, and he hadn’t. But if he walked into the door right then, she’d happily curl into his arms and beg forgiveness. She was so alone.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end suddenly, at the sensation that started to trickle into the room, ever more noticeable now full into her heat. _Alpha_. Her heart picked up it’s pace as she braced herself against the back wall. She wouldn’t reach for him, for Captor, she wouldn’t. He was caring already, of course he’d be so when she was at her lowest. She didn’t have to do anything, because if she did, she didn’t know what she’d do. She’d just grit her teeth and bare it, and then she’d get relief and not bind herself to him.

She gasped for breath as the rolling sensation of a very, very angry Alpha, got closer and closer. She must have displeased him, waiting so long to drink. She couldn’t stop the whimper— _she didn’t do anything wrong, she didn’t mean to, she promised, she’d be good_.

She must have already been somewhat incoherent, because the sword that suddenly jutted through the door near the lock didn’t startle her. She watched as the tantou, already bloody, twisted in the mechanism, unlocking the door with a shriek of sheared metal. As easy as if it was a key.

When the door was yanked open, and Uchiha Itachi stepped inside, she didn’t even pause at the sight of his bloodied white ANBU armor, eyes spinning Mangekyou red in agitation, making him look very much like a demon.

She just flopped over onto her back and tilted her head, exposing her belly and throat to him immediately.


	2. Itachi's Side Plot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itachi quietly pines.

Uchiha Itachi was called to the Hokage’s office one afternoon. It was not an uncommon occurrence for him. Since the age of thirteen he had been in the ANBU ranks, a captain by fifteen, and only so late as that because there had been a law instituted that no academy student can graduate before their twelfth birthday. And so, he—able to both tree climb and water walk by age of seven—plodded along with his classmates until he graduated, became a genin, a chuunin the very next exam, and then was quickly shunted into the special forces little more than a month later, just after his birthday. He didn’t mind it, despite knowing he had limited himself by remaining. He was able to have fun outside of his clan during those years, get to know others of the village he’d have never met. His father griped about the infringing laws of the village, and how the other ninja clans and—worse—clanless shinobi only held back the best of their abilities, but Itachi preferred the law to be in place. It meant something to have a location where all ninja came together and learned, as children, even if some were just naturally better than others. 

“Hokage-sama,” he announced as he materialized from the shadows of the room. It was near dinner, and he wore his ANBU attire as a default, mask firmly in place. 

“Itachi,” she replied, calm. She was the Hokage, the Alpha among Alphas, and he respected her a great deal. His Alpha nature prickled under her own strong Alpha presence, but he submitted himself to her willingly. Alphas were the most aggressive and driven of the three statuses, and those traits presented itself in a type of presence that could be sensed at a distance. Different Alpha were different level of strength that had nothing to do with their physical prowess, and there had been thus far no determinable reason for how that strength came about. Such presence could be suppressed, but never truly removed by the Alpha, with some better than others at the skill. Alpha of a similar strength irritated the other, the closer the match, the worse it became. Uzumaki Naruto and his little brother Sasuke had hated each other on sight, though they had eventually worked out their differences (though they frequently still gave strong impression otherwise). 

“I have received two reports, both of which require more immediate attention. Yours is to take your team and track down and eliminate the Alpha responsible for the disappearance of several Omega, most recently a mayor’s daughter.” She tossed a scroll at him, and he opened it and read, even as she continued briefing. Omega were rare in the populous, and were the opposite of Alpha in that their presence soothed those around them rather than agitate. Alpha were instinctually driven to seek that sensation, to protect and care for them, and they most easily developed bonds to Omega than the other two statuses. This instinct also, unfortunately, too often led to abuse, kidnapping, and rape to the Omega, with nearly a quarter of such cases being an Alpha-Omega issue despite their few numbers. This was not the first time he had received such a mission. “The last sighting of the missing Omega were in, and the town the mayor controls, is Kagetsuki, along the edge of the Land of Storms. Pack a raincoat.” She smirked and took a mouthful of her sake. 

As he had been in the ANBU ranks for over a decade at this point, he had rotated through the various responsibilities therein. He found that his most recent branch, Tracking, was distinctly more satisfying than Assassinations, Secrets, Hunting, and Protection Detail had been. Unlike Hunting, which employed virtually the same skill set, he usually was off rescuing someone or something rather than tracking down rogue nin he had to eliminate. It allowed him to feel the satisfaction of serving his village with a usually happy outcome. 

“And the other, Hokage-sama?” 

Her smirk was not reassuring, “For your team, escort detail.”

He frowned behind his mask, seeing the clear challenge she presented him. His team was not an Protection Detail team, no matter if he and Shisui (both wielders of the sharingan, thus more front line fighters) had been previous members of that larger division. Further, he couldn’t see any logic as to assign him and his team a mission to track down missing women, if they were also meant to protect someone. That meant the two missions were somehow related. 

It also led the question why his team, in particular, was chosen. They had only recently returned from a mission, and generally the accepted policy put the Tracking teams on a rotation, so they should be due for a break. So they, _he_ , had been chosen specifically. But what would he have to do with anything with an escort mission, Omega and… He stiffened just in time to sense her approach. 

_Haruno Sakura_. 

When he was very young, he knew he caused his parents some worry. He was very clearly an Alpha, but by the age of 4, had not attached to any person, even his parents. Alpha were natural leaders, driven to protect those under them, but occasionally there were those were born who did not have that protection instinct, that drive to care for another. Those Alpha usually ended up powerful, but also dangerous, psychotic. Without the curbing instinct, a bond, they became monsters. 

Thankfully, his brother was born and he near instantly bonded to him, soothing his clan’s worries. He was later introduced to Shisui, and also bonded with him. At fourteen, he had met Izumi, and his clan sighed with relief, all fears abated when they began dating shortly after. 

The summer after Izumi had died, that was when he first met Haruno Sakura.

He didn’t recall those few months before and after Izumi’s self-sacrifice very clearly, but he had a vague recollection of Sasuke’s jounin promotion ceremony. His genin team had been invited, and while Itachi was familiar with Naruto through both his work in the Secrets division and in addition to the truly legendary fights he and his brother had—most ANBU in his age group were familiar with the jinchuuriki, actually, what with the child somehow repeatedly breaking into the secured rooms in the Hokage Tower before even graduating the Academy for mere pranks baffled the elite group like nothing else—Haruno Sakura was new to him. He could recall entering the sitting room where Team 7 resided and noticing her odd coloration, the airy and light tingling sensation of _Omega_ finally identified. He watched how she visibly curled into his brother at his appearance, only to be shrugged off. He had thought that Sasuke needed to take better care of his Omega, but he merely congratulated his brother on his achievement, retrieved some snacks from the buffet, and departed back to his quarters, exhausted from even that brief interaction with his family. 

It was only later, near the beginning of winter, when he had been switched from Hunter to Protection Detail, that he had gotten more to know about the Godaime’s apprentice. She was a frequent visitor to the Tower, which surprised him mostly in that he had never spotted her there before being assigned the Hokage guard. It was probably because he had spent the last few years as a Hunter and was mostly out of the village. She had looked terrible, overly thin and stressed that called in the Alpha in him to feed and sooth the Omega. But she had a determination in her face that didn’t decrease as time went on, even as she improved in bearing and skill. He learned that she was training to take the exam for jounin, and was aiming for a full jounin status rather than a special jounin for her medical skills. He was happy for her, as he hoped the rank would give her more confidence. He felt that Sasuke needed to have a girlfriend that didn’t bow to his every whim, like their mother did to their father. 

She would have remained in that position, as his little brother’s interesting Omega, had Sasuke not limped home one day with a dislocated shoulder, broken jaw, three cracked ribs, and an egg the size of a grapefruit on his head. Apparently they had broken up, and Sasuke didn’t take it well, having always been a jealous and reactive type. Itachi knew his brother, and knew he had likely been angrier that she left him than actually angry at the end of their relationship. Their parents had been _furious_ that the clanless shinobi had injured their youngest, and his father had petitioned the Hokage to punish her. Tsunade had punted him from the Tower window and forbidden him entry for a month. 

Itachi was torn about it. On one hand, he loved his little brother dearly, despite his flaws (Sasuke took after Fugaku far too much in his opinion). He also never wanted to see him hurt; he had even killed people to ensure that. On the other hand, she was possibly in the right—he only saw one limited interaction between them, and it was negative. However, she was a chuunin and Sasuke was a jounin _and_ had an awakened bloodline limit. Regardless of deserving, Sasuke should have won their match. And so Itachi eventually deemed it a learning lesson, in the danger of underestimation if nothing else, and enforced his Hokage’s orders without prejudice against both his father and Sasuke. The latter having been additionally banned from missions for a month, supposedly for his ‘recovery.’

He was unsurprised that she passed the very next exam that summer—a private event each village did, unlike the war-substitute the chuunin exams were—and gained the flak jacket of jounin. 

It was after she had gained the rank that he noticed himself being… interested in her. He sometimes got called away on the Protection Detail when events like the chuunin exam occurred, but otherwise remained mostly in the village. It was a nice break from the constant death and travel of the Hunter division, something he needed after losing Izumi, but it left him with more time on his hands than he usually had. He argued more with his father, his parents, which eventually caused him to move out completely and making him a somewhat pariah in his clan. He trained with Sasuke, and Shisui, working his newly awoken Mangekyou. And he watched the pink haired Omega. 

It was never anything large, or overt. Shisui teased him, calling his habit “mild stalking” when he finally caught Itachi in the act. He didn’t follow her, or peep into her shower, but he began to learn some details of her. Where she lived, where she worked, her friends, her civilian parents, her favorite places to eat, her training and skills. He learned her patterns, habits, and preferences. 

He realized he had a fully blown crush on the woman when they had been assigned to the same team. It was a simple mission, escorting the cousin of the Fire Daimyo, who was heavily pregnant, to the capitol a year later. Sakura was resourceful, intelligent, skilled, strong without being oppressive, kind and very beautiful.

He also realized she didn’t like him at all.

It was never anything direct, but he could see the way her shoulders would tense as they spied him, how she was always unfailingly polite and brief in their communication, and how she always ensured there was a respectful distance between them. He would have despaired completely, if he didn’t also notice how she always _reacted_ to him. Her pupils dilated when she looked at him, so he knew she found him attractive, and that greatly pleased him as a man. She always turned to him first when they were assigned the same teams, so he knew unconsciously she trusted in him, and that pleased him as an Alpha. She was surprised whenever he did things for her, as if she wasn’t expecting such minor acts of kindness, which both caused him sadness (she shouldn’t be _surprised_ over someone caring for her) and led him to believe that she just had a negative experience and he could overcome that with time and patience. And probably by keeping her away from Fugaku for as long as possible, not that he and Itachi were on speaking terms at the moment. 

Over two years later, he felt he was getting closer to overcoming her dislike. Shisui teased him about being shy, though Itachi said he was only gathering information before he acted. He was beginning to suspect the Hokage knew of his crush, because they were suddenly faced with a lot more joint missions together than could reasonably be coincidence, especially as he had been switched away from the Protection Detail early. 

That smug smirk that Tsunade was currently giving him was also a strong indication. 

He felt her approach, the instinctual warmth that designated all Omega creeping into the space, heralding her arrival. A knock sounded, and the Hokage allowed entry. Sakura had a tired but a happy look on her face as she bowed upon entry into the room. “Shishou, you called for me?” He took a silent, deep breath, and took in her scent, layered with dirt, wood, the smell of honest sweat, _her_ , but no accompanying smells of a partner. Given today wasn’t one of the days she worked at the hospital—Itachi had memorized her work schedule—he deduced that she had been training, and probably had a good day of such. Her bruised and somewhat bloody knuckles gave further indication. He wanted to kiss them better. 

He noticed when she looked at him and knew who he was, even though he had all the trappings of ANBU on and had his Alpha energy suppressed. He watched and half listened to the conversation around him, and remained silent even as a slight needling was tossed his way, “Trust his opinion on keeping her safe.” The Hokage _definitely_ knew. Was this a test? Did the woman approve of his intentions? Or was she just waiting until Sakura punched him into the distance, so she could laugh at his expense? Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised with either outcome. Tsunade had an ‘interesting’ relationship to the Uchiha clan, and him by extension. 

He watched as Sakura realized she had moved forward during the conversation to stand not an arm’s length from him, and took a step away. _Not yet_ , he thought to himself. 

She was dismissed with orders to appear at the meeting point, and he tried not to be disappointed when she still called him the formal ‘Uchiha-san.’ She may have not given him leave to use her given name, but he had done so to her, though she had yet to use it. She may have been attributed the permission to blood loss at the time, as he hadn’t been at his best. He sighed.

He turned back to the Hokage and did not comment on the knowing gleam in her eye. “Hokage-sama, if that will be all?”

“Hm. Just two things. One, I want the escort portion of this detail to remain low-key, so plainclothes until her drop off is completed. And two, don’t fuck this one up like the last one.”

He was very thankful for his mask right at that point as his face erupted in an uncharacteristic blush. The only way he had ‘fucked up’ on his last mission with Sakura—his latest one with ANBU there had been no complications—was that she had fallen asleep on him from chakra exhaustion. He supposed he could have moved her, awoken her earlier, or something else, but… it had just been so pleasant, and she was so tired, he just let her sleep. Even if he had been bleeding still from the thigh wound she had been attempting to heal. Unfortunately she woke later, furious at him for being an ‘ _idiot’_ for letting her sleep while he had an ‘ _open wound_ ,’ and had remained pissed at him for the remainder of the trip back home. He had left that part out of his reports, but apparently her student had no similar qualms. 

He bowed and hastily departed. 

**XXXXX**

He told his various teammates about meeting at the gate in person, tasking Kaede with the acquisition of food for the party. Hyuuga Kaede and Inuzuka Shinoto were both new to his team, Shinoto newly promoted and Kaede relocated due to an undisclosed ‘issue’ with a former teammate. He didn’t know the details, preferring not to get that possible bias, but he had been told to ‘watch her.’ She was quiet, but was an excellent Hyuuga and was a decent follower, so he trusted her well enough. 

Shisui, of course, was by his side as always. The Beta was his anchor, and both the Third and the Fifth Hokage felt it was better for all involved if they were on the same team, and for the most part they were. Tsunade, especially, liked having a mixed status party, with either an Beta or a rare Omega tossed in to soothe the tempers of the Alphas of the group. It worked surprisingly well; Beta were the most common status, though they didn’t appear so from within the shinobi ranks. They tended to be fun, easy going personalities, not driven to lead as Alpha were and generally were happy to take support positions. Having one on a team allowed the remaining Alpha to focus on someone who wasn’t trying to ‘usurp their position,’ as instincts drove them, and made everything run smoother as a result.   

“Ugh, Sweet Sarutobi’s monkey’s staff, why are we going out again?” the other Uchiha complained, slumping against the wall close to Itachi to wait. He had been in the local hot-springs when Itachi had found him, and still somewhat smelled of sulfur. 

Itachi dragged his head down to his level and rubbed a mark into his cousin’s hair, paying no heed to his grumbles. He shushed him, “Hokage-sama specifically requested our team. You should be honored.” 

Shisui let his head thump down to Itachi’s shoulder, not moving it even after the mark was completed. “We’re _always_ ‘specifically requested.’ It lost its shine years ago. Besides, she seems to be requesting us more often as of late,” He peeked an eye open, “You wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?”

Itachi crossed his arms and followed Inuzuka’s chakra as he came closer. The ninken user was a powerful Alpha, three years his junior, but they had sparred when he first joined and they worked their instincts so that he accepted Itachi has his leader without issue. He didn’t reply to his cousin.

“You _do!_ ” He perked up, giving Itachi a more thorough overlook. Then smirked. “Does it have anything to do with your little stalking habit?”

“What stalking habit? Does that have something to do with the mission?” Shinoto landed a few steps away, his dog a second behind him. He always did have unfortunately good hearing. Kagemaru happily continued to bound up to Itachi, begging. 

Itachi glared at his cousin in clear warning to drop the topic. “No, Shinoto-san.” He held his hands for the much taller shinobi to dip to his level, and he marked the top of his head when he complied. “I will explain our mission when Kaede-san arrives. Ignore him.” He then dutifully marked the dog as part of his team as well, to Kagemaru’s delight and tail wag. 

“Don’t worry, Shinoto-kun, once we’ve broken you into the real corps, you’ll be picking up your _own_ stalker habits.” Shisui tossed an arm around the other man, leaning in as if he was telling a secret. 

“What, really?” He scrunched his nose, “Is that, like, mandatory?”

“Of course. It’s part of the culture. Each new member has to pick a former member and stalk them without getting caught for a month. Then BAM! Once you’re in, you get to stalk the prospective members too, but that’s more of a habit by then.”

“I think you’re lying.”

“Did you notice anyone stalking you before you were recruited?”

“No one can trail Kagemaru and I without us knowing.” He boasted, and Kagemaru barked his agreement. 

“That just means they were very good!”

As his cousin was trying to haze the doubtful ninken user, Itachi noticed and watched as the last member of his team showed up. She nodded to him, and he marked her hair without a word. Hyuuga Kaede was not a very strong Alpha, and had accepted his position of leader without them having to fight at all. 

With a few hand signs, an obscuring jutsu was put into place around them, hiding their conversation. “Hush.” The slight squabble calmed, and his team turned to him. “We are awaiting one more member—”

“ _I knew it_.” Shisui’s quiet, but heartfelt declaration was ignored. 

“—Once she arrives we will be off. Our mission is separate than hers, but we are ensuring that she makes it to her mission point first.”

“We’re on an escort detail?” Kaede spoke up, her mouth twisting slightly. 

“In a sense. Our mission is to find and return a number of missing Omega women, taken from a border town near the Land of Storms. If we find the Alpha responsible, we are to eliminate him, and return the women to their village.” Shisui’s eyes glinted, already a step ahead with the revelation. 

Shinoto squinted. “Boss, that’s terrible and all, but what does that have to do with the escort?”

“She is an Omega.”

“Oh.” And as an Alpha, that was enough. Kaede similarly nodded, much more at ease with her mission parameters. They both understood the instinctual need to protect the Omega among them, which only worsened when there was a sense of belonging, like Tsunade had to her shinobi. Kaede had her clan’s heiress to constantly worry about, and Shinoto had his sister. 

“Any questions?”

No one spoke up, and so he dropped the cloaking jutsu, and leaned back against the wall. He had asked his team to arrive a little earlier than her, to brief them, but they didn’t have to wait much longer. He sensed Sakura arrive moments before she appeared, the shiver of her status washing over him, and very pointedly ignored the smug grin his cousin shot him before the man turned to greet her. 

He exchanged brief conversation, then held his hands to her in a similar fashion as he had the others. She dutifully stepped closer, and he thrilled at the feel of her soft, warm face in his hands. He very much enjoyed the way she smelled, and loved even more that _he_ was going to be the only mark on her for a while, since she had showered. He dearly wished to drop his face into her neck, to mark her in the much more intimate fashion of lovers, but he kept himself to the standard mark—no more, no less. Once marked, he could feel his team adjust to accept her position among them, to be protected by them. Good.

His nose full of her scent, and his hands tingling from her skin, he began the mission. His team fell in naturally behind him in a diamond pattern, without even his order to do so. They took his lead as he took point, and were silent shadows during their travel. 

He kept careful note on Sakura’s stamina as they went, knowing she had been training before they began their trip. He knew she couldn’t go as far as the rest, and so he called a stop right when she was beginning to flag. They had days to reach the drop point, an earlier night would not harm them. After his team scoped the location for dangers, he turned to them all.

“Standard watch rotation three. Haruno-san, you are excused from this.” He paused a fraction of a second, his cousin’s previous advice about talking with her more pulling to his mind, “You should rest and recover.”

She nodded, but looked a little irritated and didn’t respond. Sigh, one step closer and three back. Shisui gave him a commiserating nudge and grin; _he,_ at least, was happy Itachi was taking more initiative. 

Itachi dropped to the ground to start setting the evening’s traps, thinking about how he could take more initiative with her during the mission. They had three days of travel there, and then he could try and argue that she needed a watcher and stay behind… no, no, he’d not be able to justify himself, as captain, being left behind. Leaving another would not help his end goal, so only if there was actual need. So that was three days of travel there, and three days back. Hm, perhaps if he instead decided to wait until her mission was complete—no, no, that was worse. He didn’t want to bring her into a possibly volatile situation. Who knows the state the Omegas would be in mentally when they found them, or how the renegade Alpha would react to another one. 

After the last one was set up, he chose a tree to settle into his watch, being the first of the group. He gave into his desires and chose to sit in the same tree that Sakura took her rest in, guarding over her. It soothed his Alpha nature to be so close and protecting over her. When Shinoto relieved him hours later, he also took residence in the same spot. Itachi didn’t let the idea of a rival Alpha over her bother him. Visibly anyway.

The next few travel days passed pleasantly. They kept a faster pace, as both of the designated missions were time sensitive, though he made the concession of two warm meals a day since he knew Sakura was not as trained to travel as his team was. He only had to pry Kagemaru off Sakura’s lap once, and give a warning glare to Shinoto about his dog flirting on his behalf, but it was otherwise uneventful. He tried to be more present with her conversations, and he was cautiously hopeful. He wasn’t being _rebuffed_ , at least. 

He remarked everyone in the team before they arrived as an excuse to remark her, and of course Shisui picked up on it and teased them both. He couldn’t hear what his cousin had said to her, but she tried to hit him and didn’t look at Itachi for the next ten minutes, so he assumed it was about him. As she was acting more embarrassed than truly angry, he added that to his cautiously hopeful pile too. 

They arrived, and he fell more into mission mode. He signaled his watchers to circle around the building and look for anything strange, then entered the palace itself. His instincts perked as the Chief of Staff’s Omega status became known to him. She was obviously stressed, and ducked her head submissively as she approached, before she bowed in greeting. He hoped having his team and Sakura here would be able to assist in calming the worry of the palace over the Daimyo’s poisoning. 

The staff they passed as they made their way to the lord, even the frazzled chief, were all civilians for all that Zukomaru supported Konoha politically. For defense purposes, they had a number of samurai guards. Far cheaper than shinobi to maintain a permanent force, he knew that they would be acceptable for most common bandit that attempted against the facilities. But he also knew that it was likely their fault that the poisoner had managed to get to the Daimyo. 

He left Sakura under the watchful gaze of Kaede and two more Omega, telling his subordinate to interview the staff directly serving the Daimyo. He then went to question the lower workers of the palace, following behind the Chief of Staff. Momoko was able to get the workers to wait patiently for his interview, so he didn’t waste time hunting them down, and gave him a helpful checklist of the employees. Most of them were Beta, scared of him, and had likely never saw the sharingan before. But he kept it up, ensuring he was able to accurately record their testimony. It all boiled down the same, ‘Zukomaru-sama and Shabuto-dono were the only ones to consume the tainted sake’, ‘it was assumed the sake was tainted, but the bottle was consumed by the time the poison went into effect’, ‘the poisoner was a recent hire, and kept to himself. They only caught him as he tried to escape with a stolen horse, and he died in the capture’, and ‘There has been no missing Omega to their knowledge, in fact there were more since a few were hired to keep the Daimyo comfortable as he recovered.’ 

Itachi kept his face from frowning. His skills of detective work assisted him in the Tracker division, but he didn’t like playing at his family’s profession. It always reminded him of his father, who currently served as Chief of Police of Konoha. The man kept pressing Itachi to retire from ANBU and join the police, to work directly under him and not under the Hokage, and ‘take his position as heir seriously.’ Itachi knew he just wanted to mold his behaviors to better reflect Fugaku’s own, and refused to. Segregating themselves from the others in the village, simply because they were not Uchiha, would do them no favors. They need the others, just like they needed them. 

He ate dinner quickly, talking with Kaede about what she had learned, and ignoring how his cousin was intermittently making obscure jabs about Sakura. He finished, and took a bowl of food to Shinoto and Kagemaru, who were keeping watch outside (the guards didn’t want to let the dog in, since apparently the lord didn’t allow animals inside the compound). He gave orders to return for the evening, as it wasn’t necessary to keep monitoring outside, and went to quickly shower in the single attached bath before the others started to trickle in. Once that was done, he made his way to where he had last left Sakura. 

She was still with the Daimyo, despite it being hours later, working. He watched her quietly, soaking in the calming effect Omega produced. Seeing her focus as she pulled the toxin from the Daimyo, a skill that few others could match was also pleasing to him to observe. Just watching her in general, actually, made him happy. She was currently biting her lip, and he had the brief thought of whether he’d be able to one day bite that lip too. 

He blinked, and reigned in his thoughts before they escaped from him. “Haruno-san,” he called softly, not wishing to startle her from her concentration. He was pleased to note his voice caused a secondary reaction of a shiver before she blinked and responded. 

They conversed briefly about their respective missions, and she capped her sample. He paused, frantically trying to figure out another topic of conversation now that one had been exhausted, one that wasn’t too forward, before he grasped onto the first one that popped into his head. “Are you aware of your assigned quarters?”

She shook her head as he could have kicked himself for the completely stupid topic. She was a jounin, in a building full of civilians; she’d be able to follow the chakra signatures, if not, she could just ask a passing servant to assist her. Further, it _still_ didn’t lead to a more natural discussion. This is why he usually didn’t start conversations. He hated his cousin.  

His mind got a little distracted from his social blunder as she stretched.

He followed her to her makeshift laboratory, assisted when she indicated something to be moved, dismissing her off handed comments that his assistance was unnecessary. If she wasn’t going to directly tell him to leave her alone, he would continue as he had been. 

With casual questions, he learned that she had not eaten, having forgotten during her work. He frowned slightly. She had been traveling with his team for the last three days, and they had not slowed down for her. He knew she needed to eat, and so when she was done prepping her base, he led her to the kitchens instead of their quarters. As he had already spoken to the Beta staff there, it was easy to ensure that his much less intimidating looking love interest received something to eat without complaint. He frowned at her almost hidden surprise; really, did _any_ of her previous Alphas take proper care of her? He made his way to the room Momoko had given them, and opened the door for her to enter first. 

Shisui had laid out their bags on the sleeping futons while Itachi was gone, and bless him, he did exactly as Itachi would have done. He loved his cousin. Itachi was nearest to the door, Shinoto guarding the window (who had also snuck in Kagemaru, to the dog’s displeasure), and Sakura was nestled safely between him and Shisui, the best frontline fighters in the group. She eyed the bed arrangement, but didn’t say anything, merely grabbing her bag from the foot of her assigned futon and headed towards the attached bathroom.

Itachi settled down onto his assigned futon, sitting cross legged at the head. He took a piece of armor that had come a little loose recently, and began to fastidiously fix the buckle. His brother complained that he was a finicky perfectionist, but Itachi just like things just so. There was nothing wrong with being neat and orderly. 

“Did you find anything?” Shisui, for all that he appeared already dead to the world on his stomach, still whispered this comment low enough that neither of their teammates reacted. 

Itachi knew what he was referencing. “No.” There wasn’t a reason for him to stay behind. His instinct was saying that he should stay and guard her, but he had found nothing in the servants’ testimony or behavior to indicate a need. 

“Me neither,” he sighed, “this place is as boring as I imagined it to be. Zukomaru-sama was likely poisoned for some political spat; he’ll have to hire an investigation team to get an answer for that when he awakens. Pity, you could use the time to stalk her some more.” He teased. 

He hummed thoughtfully as Shinoto started to grapple with Kagemaru over the latter’s shedding. He reached a hand out and ruffled his cousin’s hair a tad too hard to be pure affection and said, “Sounds like someone is volunteering for kitchen duty for the next few missions.”

“G‘night!” Shisui ducked his head under the coverlet. He, above all else, _hated_ kitchen duty. 

Itachi smiled, letting it be swallowed by the night. 

She emerged a while later, hair damp and wearing sleeping attire. Itachi watched her from the corner of his eye, and imagined that she was walking towards _him_ and _his_ bed, rather than her own. He imagined kissing her forehead, and wrapping her snuggly into his arms, happy to simply hold her. Maybe eventually that will be true.

As it was, she settled into her bed with maybe just a too long of a glance at him. Itachi put that into the cautiously hopeful pile. He noticed that she laid down on her back with her arms behind her head, indirectly exposing her stomach to the room. This was not her habitual sleeping style, as she usually curled onto her side during their travels, so Itachi took it as a sign she was particularly comfortable with her placement at his side. His Alpha instincts was certainly happy about it, and wanted to touch her there. 

He paused, realizing he should probably talk to her again. He needed to do that more, so she could get used to him. Step one, after all. “Goodnight, Haruno-san.”

Her eye opened, watching him, and she hesitated before she replied. He kept his face neutral. “Goodnight, Uchiha-san.”

**XXXXX**  
  


The next morning he awoke his team. They all got ready in silence, careful not to wake the still slumbering medic. He fetched food for his team, and carefully segregated a bit of it for her to consume when she awoke. He wrote a note for her so she knew it would be safe. 

At the very last moment, he carefully awoke her. She was groggy, having been pulled from a rem cycle, and he was pleased. Pleased because it meant she had enough trust in the room, in _him_ , that she allowed herself to fall into that deep of a sleep. He wondered if his scent soothed her, or just his Alpha presence. He pulled her head in for a nuzzle, and may have taken advantage of her grogginess to make it an extra strong mark, dropping his hands from the standard position on her cheeks to her jaw, to also leave his scent on her neck. He wouldn’t see her for a number of days, after all, and the Alpha in the area needed to understand that he was already courting her… kind of. He didn’t want to leave her, so that was the next best thing. 

Itachi cautioned her to be safe and careful, and then he and his team departed into the predawn light, not even bothering the gate guards as they vaulted over the wall. 

They traveled the rest of the day in silence, only stopping for quick meals of dried rations. They found a location for the evening, and his team settled to sleep under the watch rotation six, which had him stand first watch. He tried not to think about Sakura, and what she was doing at that moment, knowing it was just him obsessing over her. When his turn for rest came, he didn’t fall asleep easy, nor was it very restful when he did. 

The next day, he allowed his team a small fire for a warm lunch. They were approaching the Land of Storms now, and though it wasn’t yet raining, the sky was ominously filled with dark clouds. He was antsy, even worse today than before, and couldn’t pinpoint why. 

“All I’m saying is, Itachi,” Shisui started, as if they had been in the middle of a conversation rather than silent for over 24 hours. “This whole ‘ _please notice me_ , _Senpai_ ’ bit is just not working for you.” He had pitched his voice to mimic a girl at the saying, holding his hands in weak fists, wrists together, under his chin. 

Itachi chewed and swallowed the rice. It tasted like ash on his tongue from his worry. He refused to respond to his cousin’s teasing; she wasn’t even his senpai.

Shisui, however, was not deterred, and continued on as if Itachi had responded, placing a hand on his shoulder as if in encouragement. “You should be taking more initiative! They like things like that!”

“What are you talking about?” Shinoto finally cleared his passageway from his rice he had choked on earlier from the first comment. 

“None of your concern.” “Itachi’s crush.” The Uchiha spoke in unison.

Itachi scowled fiercely at his cousin, feeling betrayed. “I will kill you and make it look like a suicide.”

“You love me,” He said dismissively, not even removing his hand, and turned to their wide-eyed teammate. “Itachi has a crush, and I’m desperate enough at this point to call in backup.”

“ _Shisui_.” He knocked his hand off his shoulder.

“I’m trying to convince Itachi that being aggressive with his love interest will be better than passively watching from the sidelines like some stalker.”

“ _Shisui!_ ”

“Uh, Boss looks to be quite aggressive right now.” Shinoto had slowly backed away from the pair, likely from the angry sense of Alpha that Itachi wasn’t bothering to suppress at the moment, but then he paused, “Wait, is this the reason of the stalking conversation from before?”

Itachi closed his eyes against the inevitable, his embarrassment swamping him. Soon, everyone would know of his crush _but_ his crush. He had no idea how this would help him at all. It’d make the return trip when they went to pick her up virtually torture. His cousin must be a secret sadist.

“Yes indeed, Haruno Sakura in specific.” 

“Really?! _It makes so much sense_ now why he was so strange on this mission!”

He calmly dumped the remainder of his rice in front of the Kagemaru to eat, and put away his bowl. 

“Yup, he’s been trying to court her longer than you’ve been in the corps.”

“I’ve only been a full member for two months, _everything_ has been happening longer than that.”

Itachi quickly drew out his tantou and lunged at his beloved, traitorous cousin, aiming right for his heart. He owed him to make it quick, at least. 

Unfortunately the brat shunshined away, vanishing from his spot at the fire. Itachi was fast, but only the Yondaime Hokage was faster than Shunshin no Shisui. Shinoto cried out in surprise at the attack, Kagemaru barked frantically, and Kaede willfully chose not to react, chewing on her rice as if lunch was the only thing happening. 

“You can’t hide forever, Shisui!” His sharingan spun, taking in the world with startling clarity. He didn’t even recall activating it. 

“ _Yes I can!_ ” Itachi threw a few kunai at the spot where the voice echoed out, but only the sound of a _poof_ returned—must have been a kage bunshin. 

“Please don’t kill me, Boss, but is leaving her the reason you’ve been so worried?” Shinoto gulped as Itachi turned to him. He was holding his hands up next to his head in surrender. 

Itachi took a long, deep calming breath before replying, though he didn’t put away his sword. The ninken user was not the source of his ire. “Yes. Her mission was separate from ours. There was nothing at the Daimyo’s to indicate a threat. There was no reason to leave a contingency.”

Weirdly, the Inuzuka frowned, though he had his eyes lowered submissively. “Uchiha-taicho,” he used his more formal title, indicating he was not teasing, “So why are you so anxious?”

“Because he’s in _looo—_ ” The other kage bunshin Shisui disappeared in a poof of smoke as Itachi cut it in half.

“It is nothing, Shinoto-san.” Itachi replied again, keeping his eyes peeled for more of his cousin.

“No, really, there must be a reason.” Itachi didn’t respond, and Shinoto’s eyes squinted, a tell that showed he was thinking particularly hard about a problem. “It’s instinctual, isn’t it?”

“Instincts are not orders, and can be ignored,” Itachi responded with the mantra taught to all shinobi about how to deal with other statuses. They should be acknowledged, used if required, but not control them. 

“ _Phe_ ,” He scowled, standing back to his full height. Itachi hadn’t noticed that he had been crouching down until then, putting his head lower than his. He pulled back in his Alpha in response. “People tend to forget that our instincts aren’t just about who to fuck. You noticed something at the palace, and can’t figure out what.”

“Don’t feed his paranoia, Dog-man!” Another shout came from the woods around them, but this time Itachi ignored it. “You’re supposed to help me!”

He frowned, and quickly reviewed through the sharingan all of the testimonies he had done that day. Every emotion, every twitch. But there was nothing, the servants he interviewed were all honest in their answers, and behaviors. Kaede, who had interviewed the other half of the employees, was even better than he at spotting lies, and she had not reported anything than some flustered Omegas, a few worried Betas, and one agitated Alpha. Still, his instincts clamored, saying that Shinoto was right. 

He had kept his sharingan mostly on since entering the area, and so he went through the day, reviewing each piece and moment. Acquiring the employee list, and going to the separated room for his interrogations. Walking the hallway, and seeing the servants cringe from him. Momoko receiving them, and her surprise at Sakura’s status. 

Wait. 

He recalled in perfect clarity the turn of a smooth cheek, the frazzled and stressed look to the civilian Omega. Her perfectly made up face, and well-dressed exterior. And her genuine surprise as she was distracted mid-sentence, “ _Ah,_ ** _you’re_** _the Omega healer?_ ”

Not surprise over Sakura’s appearance, gender, or her status. Surprise that _Sakura_ , in particular, was the Omega healer. The Omega healer they hadn’t known was coming. The Hokage never sent details as to who the teams being sent were, it put too much at risk for targeted attacks. Especially when they had a problem with disappearing Omega in the area. Shizune, the Hokage’s other apprentice, an Alpha, was just as likely to have been sent to cure the Daimyo, but she had been called away on another mission last week. Itachi knew because she was dating Shisui, but that didn’t mean others would have learned of that information casually. Mission rosters were on a need to know basis only. 

His blood ran cold. It had been a trap. He had _left her in a trap_.

“We are leaving,” he said decisively. He sheathed his sword, and readjusted his mask on his face. He snatched his bag off the ground, and didn’t even pause for his team to catch up. Shinoto was the first one to fall in behind him, with Kaede not too far behind. Shisui was the last to fall in, but he was able to shunshin into place. 

“Itachi!” He shouted, appearing next to him. Itachi glanced at his cousin, and continued on. “Our mission is the other way!”

“Our mission was designed to put us out of the way, to leave Sakura alone.”

“By the First’s morning wood! If you fuck away this mission and are _wrong_ , Tsunade-sama won’t even have to kill you, because Sakura-san certainly will! This is worse than the last time when you nearly died because you ‘didn’t want to wake her’!”

Itachi pressed harder and didn’t respond; if his cousin had breath to complain, he had breath to run faster. 

He hadn’t been a slouch with their speed before, and they had made good time. However, now he was leading them with a lot less finesse, and more speed, to the point that Kaede was struggling to keep up and Kagemaru had been moved to ride on Shinoto’s back, the dog being not as deft to navigate on the branches at the speed which they traveled. 

They raced through the evening, stopping only once to catch their breath, power down some water and a nutrient bar, before they shot off again. It was pressing on into the night, and Itachi himself was starting to feel the strain as they stopped again to take a breath. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t stop, because they were maybe three more hours of travel from the capitol and every moment counted. 

“What’s… the plan… Uchiha-taicho?” Shinoto gasped from where he crouched, hands on his knees. Kagemaru whined at his feet. 

“Storming… the castle… I think….” Shisui said, lying flat on his back next to the dog user. 

“Not _you_.”

Itachi paced on the short branch where they stopped, unable to stop moving despite his own flagging exhaustion. He forced himself to eat another nutrient bar despite it tasting like chalk, knowing if he didn’t sleep he’d need the food. “Sakura is strong, she is bound to have left some sort of damage in her capture, if she was even _able_ to be captured. We need to find the Omegas, if they are still there when we arrive.”

Shisui moaned, “Death god take me... I don’t want to think... of the _paperwork_... if she has leveled the place...”

“Taicho,” Kaede spoke for the first time since the palace in the brief silence that followed, from her position leaning against the tree trunk. She had a lot of stamina, if not speed. “Is the plan to press on through the night, or rest and take it by the light of day?”

He glanced at her and let his silence be the answer. He drank from one of his canteens, emptying it. He ignored the logical part of him that said Sakura was probably already taken by now, and a few hours to rest would be better than pressing on. Further, he was emotionally compromised. He really should pass the Captain position to another member of his team. Probably to Shisui, since he was the most experienced, though Kaede was fairly experienced in Tracking division as well, in addition to being an Alpha. He rubbed at his growing headache. He had kept the Sharingan activated as they traveled the night, and the strain was getting to him. 

Shisui moaned again, “Ugh, I’ll be _useless_ by the time we get there if we keep this up. I need sleep.” He also had kept his doujutsu activated to ensure that he didn’t crash into anything as they traversed. 

“Me too.” 

“Same.” Kaede nodded.

Itachi frowned, completing another circuit on the branch. He knew the policy of the Tracker division; they had to always be prepared to make long, hard trips across the nation, and carefully ration their strength so that they would not be overwhelmed upon arrival, no matter how pressing certain situations may be on the other side. The team had been on nearly constant move since Konoha, five days ago; the only respite being their overnight stay at the palace. He knew that he would also benefit from a rest, but like the night previous, knew he’d be unable to sleep when something could have happened to Sakura. 

He had failed her, and failed the mission that Tsunade had put before his team, before _him_. He had been tasked with ensuring her safety, of judging the danger of the palace before leaving. He knew something was wrong, but he left her away, and now she was possibly captured, and it would be _his_ _fault_. His team might not be able to, _willing to_ , continue on without rest, but that would just mean he could press on ahead of them, and scope out the palace on his own. It would save time, and then he’d either be with Sakura again and all is well, or he’d press on to the next location. Yes, he could take a soldier pill and continue on without them. 

In hindsight, he probably should have seen the Hyuuga neck pinch coming; he had been warned, after all. Instead, he just suddenly crumpled as darkness overtook him. 

**XXXXX**

He didn’t speak when he awoke, sun just peeking over the horizon and through the branches of the tree he was still in. Probably five or more hours since he was forcefully put to sleep. Kaede didn’t have the decency to look even a bit ashamed as she undid the neck pinch, merely frowned down at him and handed him a onigiri she had made while he was unconscious. She always made breakfast when she took morning watch. 

He sat up, and noticed everyone was eyeing him silently, cautiously. He felt his Alpha presence boil under his skin, barely contained in his anger. He wanted to yell, to lash out at the lesser Alpha who _dared to take his decision from him_ —

But he just took the onigiri, stood, and launched himself towards the palace. 

This time, he didn’t even bother with the gate, or the entrance. He put the first three fingers of each hand above his head, signaling them to scatter. He landed on the roof, skittering across the steep red tiles with ease as he headed to the room with the Daimyo, where Sakura would be had she still been in the palace. He calmed his presence as much as he could, focusing on calm. He ignored the fact he couldn’t sense her upon approach. 

“Oh my! What! Who are—guards!” The Daimyo was awake, and visibly startled when Itachi appeared in the room. He was attended by two servants, a male and female. Both Beta, neither one he recognized. Sakura was not there. 

“Zukomaru-sama, where is your medic?” 

“What is the meaning of this? Are you from Konohagakure?” 

“Haruno Sakura. Have you seen her?” Don’t be angry. Don’t rush. 

“I have no idea who you are talking about! I will not be badgered on my sick bed by some ninja! Who are you? What does Tsunade think she is doing—”

Itachi did not have time to placate the upset lord. He made the subtle hand signal to make a illusionary bunshin. He slipped away as the bunshin distracted the Daimyo without the man becoming aware. 

He darted the way he came, heading to the window where they had resided for the night. The room was empty, all futons replaced where they came from. He opened the various side storage doors in the space, finding their futons behind one. He found hers by scent, but it was older, fading. She hadn’t used it recently. Her bag was also missing where it had previously been placed. 

“Report.” He said softly, as he slid shut the storage door. He turned around and looked at his subordinates, waiting patiently in silence.

“Her lab was still mostly intact, though there was a section missing. I suspect the struggle happened there, and the evidence cleaned after.” Kaede spoke first. “There wasn’t structural damage, so it’s likely they took her by surprise.”

“The gate guards remember us coming through, but they don’t recall us or Haruno-san leaving.” Shinoto spoke. “Otherwise, there had been various carts and visitors to and from the palace in the last few days, none more particularly noteworthy than the other according to the ledgers.”

“The house staff believe we accomplished our mission and left as a group. They don’t recall what happened to the Omega helpers, as they left after the Daimyo became coherent. Apparently, he has moral disagreements to hiring based upon status.” Shisui finished. 

Itachi breathed. He needed to be detached, quiet, _calm_. “Kagemaru, can you still follow her scent trail?”

The dog did a short whine bark, and Shinoto translated by nodding. 

They vanished from the room, launching out the window to the roof following the dog. 

However, no more than five minutes from the building, Kagemaru paused on the road, near a crossroad, and spun in a circle, barking and snarling. 

“He says there’s multiple trails. He doesn’t know which is the real one.”

Her bag. Of course. They would have taken her clothes and spread false trails, expecting scent trackers to come after her. He breathed deeply. _Focus_ , panicking does worse than nothing. He thought, frowning fiercely behind his mask, for something unique they could follow, something about her herself that would otherwise not be on her clothes… wait.

“My mark, can you find the one with my mark?” He knew that his mark would have only lasted a day or two, since it was a topically applied scent. She’d have to have been taken almost as soon as they had left for it to be strong enough to cast a second trail. If he couldn’t find it... 

The dog cocked his head, then did another circle. He then shot off in one direction, and the group followed along the trail, a breath of relief. This path led across the roadway, and so they were able to pick up quite a bit of speed. 

They ran for another few hours, towards the Land of Stone. The path broke off from the main road, heading towards a side route, not as well traveled, and Itachi knew they were close. He ordered them all to suppress their chakra to almost nothing, in case of sensory types. It slowed them down, and Itachi grit his teeth at the necessity. 

Eventually they froze just on the edge of vision, a hundred meters away or so, facing what appeared to be an ancient fortress. It was only a half day travel from the Daimyo’s town and palace, hidden in woods left to grow wild. Itachi signaled to Shinoto and Kagemaru, who broke off to circle the structure, to see if her scent trail left at a different point. 

“Looks like someone was busy with reconstruction. This seems to have been going on far longer than just what was reported in Kagetsuki.” Shisui spoke, his own sharingan activated. The building indeed had visible differences in the stone structure, from old to newly implemented. There was the slight tip of scaffolding along the inner courtyard visible from where they stood. 

“I see two guards along the immediate wall. They’re not wearing any headbands, but they don’t look like Samurai. Female.” Kaede’s veins bulged around her eyes, indicating she had activated her own doujutsu. She didn’t have the longest range, unlike the clan Heiress who could see for miles. Her range was limited to 300 meters, but with careful positioning they should be able to cover the entire floor plan should it prove necessary. 

Itachi squinted, just able to make out movement along the parapet along the top of the wall. The air shimmered slightly with chakra. A genjutsu of some sort, either notification type or cloaking type. 

“Anyone else?”

“There is perhaps a dozen personnel within my vision.” She hesitated, “They’re all female.”

Shisui whistled lowly. “I bet they’re all Omega or Beta, too. Looks like we have a legitimate Harem going on.”

Itachi didn’t let himself react to his cousin’s words. A true Harem hadn’t happened in decades, as the laws of all countries prohibited it as being cruel, and against basic human rights. It was when an Alpha started to collecting many Omega to them, manipulating them to bind themselves to the Alpha. It took careful cultivation and brainwashing to make so many women to work like that under one man (there had never been a reported male harem). It was the main reason it was prohibited through the nations, and the reason why in depth knowledge of status behavior was limited to the ANBU and the Torture and Interrogation department. An Alpha working a Harem preyed on the psychological responses Omega had, making them dependent on that particular Alpha above all else, breaking them of their independence and desire for anything other than pleasing the Alpha. If done properly, it would create a cult of worship. It didn’t matter how many other women were in the Harem, or what the Alpha told his cult to sacrifice. The Omega believed that _she_ was the one the Alpha loved best, and would do anything he said. The women would literally die for their Alpha. 

And Sakura had been taken by that Alpha. 

“Boss,” Shinoto appeared back at his elbow, Kagemaru panting next to him. “Her scent disappears inside. Only one direction in. And, uh,” he coughed a bit, rubbing at his nose. “I had to activate the Nose Bind jutsu. There is at least one active heat female in the compound at this time, likely two.”

Wordlessly both he and Shisui went through the hand signs to bind their own noses. Suddenly facing a female in heat could put pause on even the best of men, as their scent called like a Siren of legend to males. Even Kaede, after a pause, did the jutsu. She may have been female, but she was an Alpha entering into a compound full of Omega. It was a smart move. 

Slowly, they made a circuit around the compound, until Kaede had seen all that there was inside. She took out a scroll and drew a sketch of the interior as she progressed. She pushed her mask aside to allow for easier communication. “I saw 34 people in the compound. All female except for one, who is currently, uh, _with_ someone. There are five women on the walls, here,” she made indications on the map at the points. “None I could see wear a headband, but at least 20 of them are carrying some sort of weapon. Given that the walls were mostly rebuilt using jutsu, I don’t doubt at least half of those are Shinobi from some village, likely Stone. Most of the women are inside, but there are 9 currently outside including the ones on the wall. I did not see Haruno-san within the compound.” She replaced her mask, signaling she was done with her brief.

Itachi breathed, centering himself. He couldn’t stop the flush of pure relief that Sakura hadn’t been the female currently being raped by the Alpha. But still, he turned back to Shinoto. 

“Kagemaru isn’t affected by human heats. He couldn’t find your scent mark at all in this mess, but Haruno-san’s trail disappears inside. No exit.”

“Perhaps there is something underground.” Kaede murmured, “My eyes can only pass through a meter of soil.”

“We can find out more if we get inside. Any ideas as to the make of genjutsu on the walls?” He turned to Shisui, who was the best at genjutsu in the group. 

“It’s definitely a notification type. The kunoichi along the walls are both the maintainers, and the monitors. They’re likely sensory types, but it’s not required for that jutsu. If we take one out, we’ll leave a blind spot to enter into the facilities, but it’ll cause a, uh, _ripple_ is close, that the others will eventually notice. We’ll probably only have a few minutes, but it’s better than just going straight through.”

Itachi pinched his lips slightly, planning. “Shisui, take this one on the wall out.” He indicated on the map, “Don’t bother with interrogation, she doubtfully knows and would only waste our time. We’ll breach through the wall there, and enter into the facilities. We’ll grab the woman here,” he pointed to a secluded room, which was marked to be a medical ward, “And see if she knows where they have taken Sakura. It is likely she had been injured during Sakura’s capture. Our primary goal is going to be infiltration and knowledge, and then rescue once we learn of her location. If we are discovered before doing so and can’t eliminate the problem, then we will converge onto the Alpha. Kill any who prove a threat; if they’re free to roam in a Harem, it’s safe to say they’ve already been lost. Be careful, we don’t know how strong they will be.” One of the most common misconception, he found, was that an Alpha was strong, and an Omega was weak, since one had the instinct to protect the other. However, Sakura was a prime example of a very powerful Omega. They would do well not to underestimate anyone inside.

They moved into position without another word, and then Shisui shunshined twice, once at the base of the wall, before he appeared on the parapet. They waited a breath, and then followed quickly, moving as shadows across the cleared ground and then up the wall. 

It was a tight fit for all of them at the top of the watch point. The guard, a female with striking red hair and matching eyes, lay motionless on the ground, a kunai in her heart, throat, and forehead. Even with his Nose Binding jutsu activated, Itachi could tell this had been an Omega. He had to crush the instinct within him that ached at such a death, and knew he may have hesitated to do the kill. He knew that Kaede and Shinoto both had the same reaction, as they stood around the corpse. It had been why he chose Shisui to proceed them. Beta didn’t have that instinct against Omega. 

They quickly moved into the compound, past some women who were mucking out the stables, and into the building. Kaede’s byakugan was priceless in such a situation, as she was able to lead the team away from any passageway travelers before ever seeing them. 

They made it into the medical ward without discovery. Kaede kept watch at the closed door, and Itachi loomed over the sleeping Omega. She was the blue haired one that was first in the Daimyo’s room. Her arm and shoulder were in a thick cast. It was undoubtedly done by Sakura. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for this woman, a broken toy of her Alpha sent to be a pawn in a game she would only lose. 

He took out a kunai, and placed it against her throat the same time he covered her mouth with his other hand. Shinoto held down her legs and free arm for him. Shisui stood behind them both, to ensure that they were not swayed from their task. 

The woman woke up abruptly, her pupils contracting in abject fear when she realized what was going on. Itachi pressed the kunai in just enough to notify her of its presence, but not enough to cut, and ignored the terrified whimper from the Omega. 

“Tell me where Haruno Sakura is.” He spoke as emotionlessly as he could, knowing that in conjunction with his ANBU mask would terrify the woman. She shook her head, eyes wide, but he wasn’t deterred. He had been taught intimately about the three statuses and how each differed in thought when he joined the Secret division, and knew how best to approach this interrogation. “She means nothing to you. She is competition. Just tell me where she is, and I won’t kill your Alpha. Win-win. Shh, be quiet now.”

He raised his hand just enough to allow her to speak, prepared to drop it back down in case she cried out. “Please, I don’t know. Please, please don’t kill Arakan-sama. Please, pl--” He covered her mouth again, to prevent her continual begging.

“Surely you have some idea. He trusts and values you, doesn’t he? Heals your injuries? Are you going to put him in danger by not telling us the truth about someone that doesn’t even matter to you?”

He released her, and she sobbed, “He moves the new ones in different locations! Somewhere else? I don’t know where. Please, I really don’t know! Please, don’t kill him!”

With the sharingan, Itachi could see she wasn’t lying. She wasn’t a shinobi, trained to hide her lies. She probably wasn’t told much of anything and was probably how she was able to be missed over by Kaede’s byakugan when they first met. She was just as much as a victim as Sakura was. Poor little Omega. He breathed slowly, and then removed the kunai. He felt Shisui’s hand against his shoulder and he took a calming breath. 

“I’m sorry,” he said honestly, before snapping her neck and pretending he didn’t feel an echo in his chest. He closed her wide blue eyes, and then arranged her into a sleeping position, careful to make her neck look natural again. It was bad luck for them that she didn’t know, for it took them out of their path to get to this room, wasting precious time. 

Shinoto assisted in smoothing the hospital blankets around her legs, and they departed the room leaving it very visibly the same as they entered.

Unfortunately, their bad luck seemed to get worse. As they made their way towards where the Alpha was still busy, they first heard a distant echoing of bells—an alarm. Then shortly after and well before they were close to their next target location, a female entered their path, dressed as a shinobi for all of the lack of a headband. Shinoto, who was leading, was unable to eliminate her in a timely enough manner, and she took a breath to scream. Only instead of the typical noise, it was a monstrous, echoing screech, giving indication she likely originated from the Land of Sound. They had been made. 

“Don’t let him escape!” Itachi shouted, drawing his blade and darting forward even as Kagemaru abruptly cut off the scream by grabbing the woman by her neck and shaking until it tore, bloody. 

They split, to prevent themselves from being bottlenecked, and made their own ways to the last known location of this supposed ‘Arakan.’ If that even was his real name; ‘worthy one’ sounded closer to a cult moniker. 

Itachi purposefully didn’t think of the women he fought, all of them vicious in their attacks for all they were mostly chuunin in skill. He had killed five more before he caught sight of the half-naked form of the Alpha dart across the hall. Itachi dispatched his current opponent as quickly as he could, and dashed after the man. 

The man was almost civilian slow as he ran to a certain point in the wall, possibly a defensive or escape location. Itachi caught up, and the man made the mistake of turning to look at him, looking right into the Mangekyou. With only a thought, he pulled him into the Tsukuyomi. 

In a world of red and black, the Alpha was tied to a cross, stretched uncomfortably by his bound arms. He struggled, and Itachi kept his face passive as he watched the pathetic excuse for a man. 

“There is no escape here, Alpha. This is my world, and you will remain here for 72 hours unless I end it otherwise. Not even death will free you if I so choose.” He stabbed the man in the gut for an example, making the cut deep and wide across his lower belly. And also because he had taken Sakura.

Itachi pulled the blade free, then timeshifted until the Alpha had stopped screaming, sagging against his bindings. “Now, tell me where Haruno Sakura is, and I’ll let you have your true death.”

Surprisingly, the Alpha didn’t immediately start begging, even has his intestines poked out from his flesh. “So. You’re the one who marked her before.” 

Itachi didn’t respond. He just stabbed him again, this time in the thigh bone. A clone of his appeared, and repeated the gesture to the lungs. “Where did you put her?”

“Ngh!” He coughed blood, “No. I will never give up my treasures.”

Itachi frowned, and thrust his blade again, ensuring he twisted the metal. 

But scream he might, Arakin never said another word. 

**XXXXX**

In the real world, Itachi blinked and continued with his momentum. He reached the Alpha before he could even fall from the after effects of the Tsukuyomi, Itachi’s blade buried in the man’s guts. The man’s pupils were tiny dots in his brown eyes from fear and pain, but he still spat blood into Itachi’s face in defiance. Itachi sliced his blade free, and decapitated him in one smooth motion. 

He pulled his mask from his face to wipe away the blood that got underneath. A low, collecting moan and screaming started to pick up from the women in the area, as the death of the Alpha was slowly becoming known. He turned around as he sensed his team land behind him.

“ _Find her._ ” He snarled, knowing he probably looked like a demon and not caring because _he didn’t know where she was_. His team followed him back into the frey, to find her at all costs. 

However, as night fell outside, they still had not. Itachi was getting desperate. They had found the secret tunnel entrance that led out of the compound, but it had been trapped with some sort of nose-deadening powder that put Kagemaru out of commission shortly after entry, likely a failsafe against this very scenario. The tunnel itself branched off into hundreds of smaller caverns, each one twisting and turning a different direction, and extending far further than the structure above. Some had escape routes built at the end of them, requiring them to track down to see if there was a safe house above ground or it was just an escape before returning to the tunnels. There were no opposition in them, as the women upstairs had either died, fled or went catatonic at their Alpha’s death, so they had split just to search the halls and hope they came across Sakura. 

Itachi was very angry. The man had known he was going to die, and so kept quiet of her whereabouts simply out of spite. It would have made Itachi worried, since it put a sense of timeline for whatever awaited him in Sakura’s cell, but he refused to entertain such ideas. She was fine, she had to be. 

He spied another steel door. Most of them that he had encountered before had been locked, but minute details pointed to the fact they had not been open in a while. Dusty handles, cobwebs, unbroken rust growth on the hinges. This one, however, had been open fairly recently. And he sensed the muted presence of Omega. His heart thumped in his throat as he dashed the remaining distance.

He evaluated the door, calculating where the pieces of the locking mechanism would be. He empowered his arm with chakra and shoved his tantou where he estimated the spindle was and twisted, the sound of shrieking metal echoing down the hall. He jerked the door open, and stepped inside. 

He saw the tiny table, with the upturned jug and cup atop it. He saw the chamber pot, chained down to prevent its relocation. He then saw the bed, and the bound Sakura ontop it. She wore some pale yellow yukata concoction, tied with strings and snaps, her hair hung limply around her head, oily and tangled. Her headband was missing. Thick chains and manacles locked around her limbs, binding them, and keeping her hands close together.

She rolled to her back as soon as he looked at her, tossing her head back to bare her neck. He took a step closer, instinctively, before the smell hit him like a punch, even through the Nose Binding jutsu. She was very, very much in heat.

Oh, oh no.


	3. Story Smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried for mostly smut, but that damnable plot.

Sakura whined. She was flushed, and her skin had an unhealthy, pinched look to it. Her lips were cracked enough that he would have expected them to be bloody, but it was doubtlessly her chakra, after so many years as a medic, just naturally healed herself.

“Please,” she whispered, trembling. “I—I’m sorry.”

Itachi blinked and deactivated his sharingan, having just realized they were still in their Mangekyou form. He pulled back his anger, the sense of _Alpha_ that caused her fear. He had to calm down. He couldn’t stop himself as he dropped his blade carelessly, crouching down over her. He placed one hand pressed to her stomach and the other around her neck, a position of control that in her state she undoubtedly took great comfort in. Her trembling slowed, stopped, her panting breath evening out. Her pulse thrummed under his fingers as he pet her delicately, trying to reassure her that he wasn’t mad at _her_. He tried not to breathe, needing to keep a clear head. 

“Tell me your state.”

“Not good,” she replied, her voice weak, panting between each section, “I’m at the second level of dehydration... maybe third. I’m also... in the first stage of starving... I have not eaten since I was taken...”

His stomach clenched painfully as she almost detachedly diagnosed herself. _That bastard_ didn’t give her food or water? He almost wished he was still alive, so he could kill him again, preferably in a much slower manner. 

She whimpered, her voice pleading. “Itachi… please...”

He quickly shut down on his Alpha again, having released it in his fury and now he was abashed that he caused her distress again. A thrill, however, shot up his spine at the sound of his given name on her lips, and he desperately wished that this had occurred under any other circumstances. He assisted her to sit up, her back to his front, and reached for his canteen; it had been refilled at one point that he didn’t recall, and he thanked the gods it was so. He carefully controlled how quickly she drank, not wanting her to get sick. He had to snatch his head back when he realized his face was buried in her hair. _That bastards_ mark was on her neck, older but well defined, and it took almost everything he had not to cover it with his own mark. He tried to breathe through his mouth, and suppressed the growl as much as he could. 

He stopped her with some of the water remaining, despite the mewl that just broke his heart. She needed to eat as well, and then she could drink the remainder. 

He kept her pulled to him with one arm around her waist, and fumbled for a nutrient bar. His hands were starting to shake, and he had to focus harshly to make them stop. He fed her quickly, then allowed her the rest of the water, all the while he was furiously thinking. He had to get out of this enclosed space; it wasn’t safe, secure, and the lack of ventilation was not helping him any. The Nose Bind jutsu didn’t block everything completely, and faded too quickly. 

He laid her back against the wall, and gently pried her fingers off his chest armor as she immediately started to cling to him as he tried to disentangle himself, “Sakura, you need to let go.”

“Wait, wait, no,” she cried, legitimate panic overtaking her features. “Don’t leave me, please. Stay here an-and take care of me.” His heart lurched at her plea. Oh, _how_ he wanted to take care of her. He wanted to feed her, dress her in the finest clothes, braid her pink hair, make her scream his name as he knotted her and filled her. He paused, shivered, and pushed the thought away. This was not the time.  

“I am not going anywhere, I am just getting you out of those chains.” He allowed her to grip at one of his hands instead of his armor, enabling him to reach his discarded blade. It was reinforced, and should be able to cut through the iron of her manacles. 

He quickly rejoined her on the bed to her evident relief, kneeling before her and holding her bindings in both of his hands. He hated them on her, and worked quickly to remove the various seals. It looked like Sakura had attempted to scrape the seals off at one point, but they needed an application of chakra to remove—something impossible when she was bound by those very same slips of paper. 

Itachi peeled them off one by one, balling the useless strip of paper once removed. He diligently ignored how she moaned in relief as her chakra was returned to her and leaned into his shoulder part of the way through. Oh, kami, she smelled _amazing_. He nuzzled a mark into her hair, satisfaction over covering _that_ _bastards_ mark competing with just marking _her_. 

No! He had to focus. He pulled away and looked back down to see the seals were all gone, and he was just holding her hands like an idiot. 

With a careful application of his sword, he cut through the weak points of the manacles. He started with the one around her neck, carefully sliding the steel between her skin and the collar before moving to her legs and finally her wrists. Eventually the hateful iron contraption fell to the floor with a crackle of iron on stone. Itachi didn’t even get to say anything before Sakura’s hands slid up his chest and wrapped around him, her face burying into his neck as her torso pressed into him. “Thank you, thank you, Itachi,” She nosed into his neck once, then again, slower. “Hm, you’re warm.” Her voice was soft, hesitant, but tinged with _desire_.

His skin broke out into goosebumps immediately. 

“Sakura,” he began, his voice slightly strangled, grabbing at her wrists and trying not to feel how she pressed against him. She was dehydrated, starved, and had an forcefully induced heat. He couldn’t take advantage of that condition. “Stop.”

“Oh,” she abruptly pulled away from him, cringing in a worse reaction than he was expecting. Her front was now spotted in bright red blood, the remnants of the Omegas who fought to the death and the Alpha who did this to her, having been transferred over from his armor. “I’m, I’m sorry for being annoying.”

His hands didn’t release her wrists, bothered by her comment. He focused on that, rather than the way her heat was affecting him. Did _that bastard_ abuse her as well as starve her? He looked her over, seeing no obvious signs of physical abuse beyond the light marks where the manacles had been. “Why would you say that?” 

She didn’t reply, and tugged at her trapped wrists, shrinking further away the longer the silence stretched. “Sakura? Tell me,” he pressed, his voice firm.

She licked her lips, her head turned away from him, “Because I am.” She burst out in a gasp of breath, as if the answered was pulled from her. “That’s what Sasuke always said, that I annoyed him. I was always a burden, too clingy, ‘a bothersome fangirl’ when we were young.”

For the first time in as long as he can remember, Itachi felt a spike of true anger towards his brother. He may have been barely an adult at the time that he and Sakura were together, both sixteen, but he damn well had known what saying that to an Omega bonded to him would have done. Itachi had taught Sasuke himself—knowing Fugaku certainly wouldn’t—about what they, as Alphas, were expected to do for the others; Beta to support, Omega to protect and care for. He suddenly had greater clarity as to why Sakura had gotten angry enough to have broken his little brother’s jaw. “Sakura, look at me.”

She did so immediately, bright green eyes peeking shyly out through her hair. 

“I am not my brother.” He said firmly, keeping eye contact. “What he said to you is wrong. You are not annoying. You are not a burden. You are powerful, intelligent, and very desirable. He failed you as your Alpha, not the other way around. He did not take care of you as he should.” He moved her wrists to one hand and reached out with the other, brushing her hair away from her face and cupping her cheek. He was heartened to feel her lean into it, only slightly, but there all the same. She was so beautiful.

A harsh noise suddenly echoed down the hall, and his head snapped in the direction, instantly reminded that they weren’t in a secure area. He couldn’t protect her well enough here.

“We need to leave. It’s not safe. Come,” He stood and pulled her up as well. She stumbled as she stood, and he steadied her. He noted then that she didn’t have any footwear or even wrappings, and so he picked her up into his arms. It’d be faster this way, anyway. And she was still recovering, besides. 

He didn’t know whether the remaining members of this Harem had regrouped by then, had backup, or what they did to cause the sound, so he carefully weaved a cloaking genjutsu on himself and his precious cargo. He had memorized the paths to the surface with his sharingan, and so he quickly, carefully, escaped from the tunnels, taking the closest exit. 

He passed through the caverns without a whisper of sound to give him or his heart away, and he checked the exit for traps or ambushes. When either presented themselves to him, he darted into the forest beyond. 

Itachi recalled a river in this area, a half hour travel away, and headed in that direction, knowing Sakura needed more water and to clean up. They would make a quick stop then find a bolt hole to hide in, where he can regroup and figure out what to do with her until her heat ran its course. Yes, that sounded like a plan.

Sakura was quiet in his arms, clutching at his shoulders. He ignored when her hands wandered across him, attributing it to her heat, something he _wouldn’t_ take advantage of. He found the river and landed after scanning for threats, creating five kage bunshin when he noticed none. Four darted off back into the woods, one remained and took his pack from him.

“No, no,” He protested hastily, as Sakura pressed her face under his jaw, incidentally running her lips across the skin there. She hummed and wiggled in his arms, not helping his arousal at all. He lifted her a bit higher, so she couldn’t find out just _how_ aroused. “We need to clean the blood off you.”

She murmured a disagreement against his skin—to what, he had no idea, as it wasn’t very clear—but then she jerked and gasped as he plunged them both into the river. Clarity would come to both of them with the chilled water. It wasn’t frigid, and the late spring air around them helped, but it still washed away a lot of pheromones and cooled their adore. He nearly moaned—in relief, in despair—as she stopped pressing herself against him and moved out of his arms. 

As she drank and washed, he took the opportunity to remove his encumbering armor, which he knew was causing her discomfort as they traveled (as well as his, in one particular area). This he tossed to his remaining clone, who packed it away and then went to fill his canteens. Once unarmored, he quickly scrubbed at his blood splattered person and clothes, and then assisted in washing the worst of the grime off Sakura. It was a quick, brisk cleanse—he did not feel comfortable enough to remain in the open for long, and the water was still quite cold—he pulled her now shivering form from the river. 

She trembled, huddling against him for warmth. He tried not to think about how her hardened nipples pressed through her thin clothes into him as he brushed as much water from her as he could. Perhaps removing the armor was a bad idea (he valiantly tried to ignore the part of him that said it was his best idea yet). His clone came back with his towel and a spare set of clothes and carefully, very carefully, he held his breath and closed his eyes as he took off the strange piecemeal yukata she wore. He dried her without lingering as much as he trusted himself, and he then shuffled her into his only set of spare clothes. He sighed with relief (and disappointment) as she just grumbled a bit, leaned against him, and didn’t protest or try and grab him while he redressed her. She was not short, and he was not tall, so the shirt did not swamp her in fabric, though it was obviously too large on her frame. It bagged about the neck and shoulders, draping to the bottom of her hips, and his pants pooled over her bare feet a bit, but not enough to pose a real tripping hazard. 

Itachi quickly squeezed the worst of the water out of his clothes without taking them off, dried himself as much as possible with the sodden towel, grabbed his repacked bag from his clone and dismissed it. He gathered her shivering form back into his arms to warm her and buried his nose into her hair, breathing deeply. She still smelled amazing, and was even better now that _that bastards_ ’ mark was washed off. 

Wait. He wasn’t supposed to do that. He jerked his head back. 

Before he did anything else inappropriate, he picked her up again, and went back into the woods. He’d rather not remain in the open, even if his clones had not yet found a safe place. He knew there would be one somewhere, likely nearer the river. There was always a safe box stashed in a protected area, a tiny shack or cabin away from most civilization where females, usually of a specific family, could spend their heat without being harassed by males in the city, and where their heats wouldn’t be unintentionally bewitching passing males.

He stopped on a large tree branch and fed her two more nutrient bars before he encouraged her to fall asleep on him. She needed her rest, and she quickly dozed off. He took a large amount of peace from that, and it had been a long time since he had anything as satisfying as having her in his arms, covered in his clothes and scent. She was warm and soft against him, protected, cared for. He nosed her hair, and stayed alert for anyone who would dare try to steal her from him. 

He lifted his head as the memories of one of his clone came to him, of the location it had found. The others dismissed themselves in quick succession, their task complete. With care to not wake her, he picked up his Omega, and dashed off. 

The small shack they eventually came to didn’t look like much from the outside, but that was hardly unusual, as safe boxes weren’t supposed to attract attention. The small trail leading to it was overgrown, but still visible enough for tracking. He pushed open the door and went inside, looking over the small room. It was obviously in disuse, probably for years, as certain furnishings were covered with tarp cloth, and the scent of dust and mothballs lingered. There was an attached bathroom, kitchen, and a fireplace, but the living room doubled as the bedroom and had a raised bed that took up nearly a third of the space, and a singular sitting chair across from the fireplace. It had numerous high windows, dirty with age and disuse. His clone had cleaned the room of the worst before dissipating. He knew the water wasn’t running, and there was no power to the shack, but it was certainly a decent place to bunk down for her heat.

Itachi hesitated before setting her down, not wanting to lose contact with her. His instincts said something bad would happen if he stopped touching her, but it was likely her heat that caused those. He eventually made himself do so, carefully settling her on the bed with the thought that she’d be more comfortable there while he could get the rest of the facilities ready for her use. He made two more shadow clones, one of them took trap making supplies out of his bag, and both disappeared back out the front door. He then shuffled about the room, hanging his canteen near the bed, placing his bag on a shelf, his sandals by the door, and hanging his towel to dry on a coat hook. He was laying out his armor so it could dry when she stirred. 

“Itachi?” Sakura whimpered, her voice confused. It rose in panic as her arms searched uselessly on the bed around her. “Where… where did you go?”

He was by her side in a blink, sitting on the bed and taking one of her seeking hands. She gripped it back instantly, firmly. “I’m here.”

He watched her beautiful green eyes focus on him. Her face was flushed, even more so now that the pinched look was gone. She looked slightly feverish, and as he cupped her cheek, she was very warm.

“Please don’t leave me,” She used his hand to pull herself upright, and then continued onward until she was _in his lap_. “Don’t leave me alone. Promise you won’t.”

Itachi’s breath stuttered as her legs settled on either side of him. His hands somehow found themselves on her hips with no recollection as to how they got there. “Sakura…” He probably should move to push her off. “Of course I won’t leave you, I…” He knew he had to say something, but he had no idea what. One of his hands migrated on its own around her waist, to rest on the small of her back. She was so _soft_ and warm. What had he been thinking of again?

“Thank you, Itachi,” He felt her words as much as heard them. She hummed then, thoughtful, and pressed in a bit more to his neck. “You smell wonderful. You always do.” 

His breath completely seized in his chest as he then felt her _lick his neck_. His blood rushed from his head to his groin so fast it may as well had shunshined. “W-what are you doing?!”

“Hm,” she articulated, and then he felt her hands disappear under his still damp shirt, crawling heatedly up his back. He may as well have been electrocuted from her fingers. 

He moved quicker than thought, and had her pinned on the bed under him, her treacherous hands captured in his. He kneeled above her, to keep his burgeoning erection from pressing obviously into her. He panted, and somehow summoned the strength of a god to say, “Sakura, stop. You’re not yourself.”

“Do you…” she suddenly looked nervous and bit her lip, and he couldn’t help himself but to watch the action, “Do you not want me?” She finished in a small voice. 

He closed his eyes to prevent himself from doing anything stupid, like watch how much her eyes widened as _he_ bit her lip. 

“Sakura,” He took a deep breath, only to suddenly realize his Nose Bind jutsu had worn off at some point, and why that was such a bad idea. Her scent _burned_ him, his nose, his lungs, and his cock was so stiff it ached. Fire ran through him, buzzing under his skin. He didn’t know who was talking, though it felt like he was. “You were captured and forced into your heat. If you were yourself, you would not be doing this.”

She squirmed a bit under him. He hated her for it, and desperately wanted her to do it again. “I know what’s going on, Itachi. I’m horny, not mindless.” He made a small noise, and somehow her hands were free and running into his hair. He dropped his head to her shoulder to avoid looking into her flushed face. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything but breathe harshly. “Do you not want me?” She asked again.

“I did _not_ say that,” his voice cracked, just a bit. 

“Then… _will_ you take care of me?” Her voice was small, careful. He had to look at her then, locking onto her bright green eyes. She looked worried, scared of his rejection. As if he had that strength of will.

He had to make her see this wasn’t a simple thing, not for him. “ _Sa-ku-ra_ ,” He growled out her name, and felt her shiver. He shifted on her, recapturing her hands and pinning her wrists on either side of her head. He settled some more weight onto her and pressed his erection against her, watching her face. “If you let me take care of you, _yes_. I will take care of you through this heat. As long as you need me to. But, I will not be gentle, not this time. I will take you again and again, until you are filled with my seed. Today, tomorrow... _I will make you mine._ ”

He watched as her eyes dilated more and more as he spoke, until they were blown as wide as possible; thin green rings around a pit of black. She panted shallowly under him, her heart thrumming in her throat. 

He leaned down to hiss into the shell of her ear, “If you don’t want that, ask me to leave. Now. Because once you say yes, I don’t know if I can stop.”

Itachi heard more than saw her lick her lips again, and felt her chest rise and brush his as she took a breath, “Itachi,” His cock twitched at the breathless way she said his name, “Please, take me. Make me yours.”

He shuddered, but otherwise didn’t move immediately. He paused, savoring the moment, planning his next steps. He firstly leaned up, until he had a good vantage of her face. He pushed some hair away from her eyes, then cupped her face with both of his hands. Carefully, gently, belying what he just said, he directed her head one way, allowing him to give her a very firm, solid mark on one side of her neck. He moved her head the other direction and repeated the action. He knew it was most likely temporary, that this was undoubtedly influenced greatly by her heat and not his own overtures, but regardless, for now, she was his. 

_His._

He was on her before she could open her mouth to say anything. His tongue plunged in, tasting her surprise and want, and _oh_ , did she taste like everything he had dreamed of. His hands moved down her, disappearing under her borrowed shirt and finding her breasts. She keened as he massaged them, thumbing her nipples, and he swallowed the sound. She bracketed her thighs around his hips in retaliation. 

Her hands raked through his hair, and she panted harshly into his ear as he trailed his mouth down her neck to lick and bite at her delicate flesh. He started with behind her ear, then moved to the tendon in her neck, then her the top of her shoulder. “Please,” she groaned, arching into him, “Please.” 

He pushed her shirt up and out of the way, covering one of her tightened nipples with his mouth. He moaned at how sweet her skin was, how responsive she was. He rubbed his hands down her soft belly, feeling her muscles flex under his fingertips, before his hands caught into the waist of her pants. Her hands moved from his hair to claw at his shirt, pulling at it. Right. He should remove that. He popped off her delectable nipple; he could be quick.

Before his shirt had even landed on the chair to which he flung it, his pants had followed, and he was naked on top of her. Ah, much better. Now for her to match. 

He found the tie and quickly broke it before he roughly yanked the pants down to her knees, enjoying her gasp at the motion. He flipped her over to her stomach and pulled the cloth up and off the rest of the way from her calves, where it then joined the growing pile on the chair. It was then he saw and remembered that his spare shirt she wore, ridden halfway up her back, had the Uchiha fan on the back. 

Fuck _._

He couldn’t help but imagine her, neatly groomed with pearls at her ears and throat, the Uchiwa proudly displayed on her back permanently. Her smile, laugh, hands wrapped around her abdomen swollen with his child. His heart tripped, his breath caught, mouth dry, and he was filled with an overpowering, burning _need_. Need to have her, to knot her, breed her, make her truly _his._

Double _fuck_.

Of course, it was then that she groaned, “Please.”

He pressed down on the top of her back, holding the shirt tight there so his clan’s mark was clearly visible. His other hand wrapped around her hip and jerked her rear up to him. Her beautiful cunt, already flushed red with blood and dripping with desire, peaked out at him from the angle. He knocked her legs apart for him to fit, and she moaned again, arching into position. Good, good girl.

He said he wouldn’t be gentle, and he couldn’t be, not this first heat, not with his crest on her back. Itachi entered her without delay, swift and forceful, and his breath heaved out of him as if he’d been sucker punched. She was so hot, and so wet and tight. He pushed in relentlessly, until he bottomed out, and she took every thick inch of him. He was forced to pause to breathe, his mind blanking, and Sakura _writhed_ under his hands. “Please,” she begged again. Omega, from what he had been told, tended to beg a lot in bed, and _fuck_ , did he want to do everything she asked for. 

“Yes, _Sakura_ ,” He knew what she wanted, what she _needed_. He pulled out again, nearly all the way, then slammed back in hard enough that the bed struck against the wall. She moaned, and he matched, doing it again. Soon, a hard and quick rhythm was set. The bed creaked and swayed with their movements ominously, but Itachi was far from caring. What mattered was the way her pert ass jiggled with every thrust, her pussy wet and welcoming to his cock, her breathless gasps and moans intermingled with pleadings, and the way her pink hair looked against the Uchiwa. 

Itachi breathed harshly, eyes spinning red, teeth gritted with focus. He watched Sakura squirm under him, under his thrusts, and wanted her moans to be louder. He moved the hand from her hip to the patch of hair at the top of her mound, and searched until he found her pearl. She cried out when he touched it, and he dexterously moved around the bud until he found a pattern that had her twitching and twisting, and kept at it. “Do you like that, Sa-ku-ra?” He growled, bent down enough over her back to lick her neck.

She sobbed, voice almost lost around her breathing. “Yes! Yes, Itachi! Please!”

His right hand loosened its death grip from her— _his, his_ —shirt, smoothed it down her back it so it would not bunch unnecessarily, and then his hand wrapped around her chest, finding a breast. Sakura, the good girl that she was, stayed with her face pressed into the mattress, even has he leaned back up.

Itachi watched himself disappear into her, over and over again, his left hand completely covered in her excess juices. Oh, he was going to cum, and _soon_. He had to make certain she did so first, or he’d never fit his knot into her tight passage.

He adjusted his angle of his thrusts until one of her legs flopped in an involuntary action. _There_. “Fuck,” He groaned, feeling his knot already swelling. In moments, it was too large to fit in as he had been, heralding his climax. He quickly adjusted his legs again and started a much quicker, shorter, furious pace, the wet smacks of their fucking filling the room. 

Sakura cried out, her fists tearing chunks out of the bed, then, _then_. He felt her entire body shudder, and a wave of wetness erupted from her cunt as she screamed. “Please, Itachi! Please!” She was begging him, _begging him for his knot_ , even as she shattered, her muscles flexing, relaxing, allowing him entry. “Ita- _chi!_ ”

He moved both hands back to her hips and gripped hard enough that he knew he would leave fingerprint bruises the shape of his hands, his balls tightening. He _had to_ knot her, he _had to_ breed her, he _had to_ make her his _permanently_. Not just today and tomorrow, but forever. He yanked her back as he pressed forward, driving, harder, harder—

Then he slipped past the tight ring of her entrance, and felt himself be locked inside.

He came with a shout of her name, spilling his very soul into her along with his seed. He nearly blacked out with the force of his orgasm, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her beneath him, barely even feeling his sharingan spin. The way her body took his so completely, her hair spilled across the pillow, the rumpled Uchiwa peaking at him from her back, and the way her face looked as she was taken by another orgasm, so quickly after her last. 

Itachi had knotted before, and had sex without doing so, so he knew that the orgasms were different. Knotting was just… _better_ ; it enhanced the feeling of pumping his cum into her dramatically, the tight feeling of her walls squeezing him in turn. It also lasted longer as his body tried to fill her up with everything it had, seconds, minutes, a lifetime. Feeling knotted to her, to _his Sakura_ … he had never climaxed so hard in his life. 

He shuddered, and ground his hips, unable to pull away, but wringing out the tail end of both of their orgasms. She called out hoarsely under him for it in thanks. 

He sucked down one breath, then another, as it finally, unfortunately, ended. He forced himself to breathed deeply, trying to calm his heart and clear his mind. He blinked the sweat out of his eyes, deactivating them to soothe the headache they caused, and pried his fingers from her hips. He smoothed his hands down over those freshly pressed bruises in silent apology, before he ran them back up and then down her back. He bent forward, covering her back with his, and then gently pulled her hands from the mess she had made of the mattress. 

He carefully wrapped one arm around her abdomen, keeping her to him, and lowered them both to their sides. His free hand grabbed her leg, and pulled it to rest over his own, to relieve any pressure from their joining. With as tightly as they’d knotted, he didn’t think they’d be moving anytime soon. His hand then traveled from her leg to wrap around her chest, to pull her more firmly against him as his other moved to stroke her belly possessively. He laid kiss after kiss on her face, neck and shoulder where his shirt bagged, anywhere he could easily reach, pressing into her back almost to the point where he was lying on her. Far from minding, she pressed against him right back, her head tossed to the side to allow him all the access that he wanted. 

“Oh,” Sakura gasped, her own breathing slowly winding down. Her arms were trapped against her own chest with his arm, to prevent any more damage to the furniture, but she didn’t seem like she wanted to move them any time soon. “Oh, Itachi.” Her desire had noticeably dropped after their activities, their bodies having expended their excess hormones in their activities. However, he knew her heat was still far from over. Induced or not, they would be in this cabin for at least two days. 

“Hm,” he responded, beginning to work on a bruise on her neck. 

“You’ve knotted me,” Sakura said, sounding somewhat surprised, and she wiggled, causing him to hiss and nip her as his newly hypersensitive knot was tugged again.

He didn’t bother to respond verbally. Instead, he moved his hand on her belly down to her pubic hairline, and lightly stroked the skin there. It wasn’t overly obvious to the eye, but the area bulged slightly, indicating where he and his seed were still tightly trapped within, unable for even a drop to escape. He traced the outline, her coarse hair tickling his fingertips. Yes, he knotted her.

“I’ve never been knotted before,” she continued, her leg shifting on his hip as she adjusted herself. 

His hand, still touching their combined mound, flattened against her navel as a surge of _something_ —possession, want, anger, sympathy, jealousy, a mix of all of them—flooded him a moment before he took a breath and forcefully calmed himself, finding it much easier to clear his head now that he had been temporarily sated. He still did not want to discuss any other male at this moment, let alone one that had previously been with his Sakura. However, he was able to gain more information from that comment than she probably realized. 

Knotting was not just about climaxing, _especially_ with an Omega. For all statuses, it indicated a closeness between the partners, and the forced intimacy of the post coital tie greatly improved bonds between them. For Alpha, it was the largest claim of ownership they could do, saying, “ _this one is mine, I will stab you if you touch them_.” If they didn’t knot, it often meant they didn’t care about their partner that much. Itachi hadn’t knotted since Izumi had died. Omega, who were driven by their desire for bonds above all else, knotting was particularly important, to the point if they _weren’t_ knotted they felt rejected by their partner, regardless of the totality of the circumstances. 

He knew it was mostly instinct, to want to bond someone you’d have impregnated or be impregnated by, but he couldn’t argue against the reality. For shinobi, knotting was an even greater sign of closeness and trust, because both partners in the tie were severely handicapped were they to be come upon by enemies in such a state. The forced vulnerability tying to someone else did make a large portion of the force choose not to do so unless they were in Konohagakure proper, and a paranoid few to not do it at all, even if it was ten times the climax of one without. 

He knew his brother and Sakura had dated for just over a year, and had been intimate. For a year, and nothing... He needed to have a chat with his brother again, since apparently Fugaku’s influence was worse than he thought. 

On the other hand, that meant he was the first person to have knotted her, to give her this level if intimacy. And if he had anything to do about it, he would be the _only_ one. 

His hand resumed its pets against her stomach. Knotting, especially between an Alpha and an Omega while the female was in heat, was an particularly fertile combination. There was a reason why a lot of people were born in the late spring and early summer—fall was the most common heat cycle period. He, with a desperation he hadn’t known until he truly imagined it, wanted her pregnant with his child, _children_. He didn’t care what his father, his clan, or even Sasuke thought about him being with, and hopefully one day marrying, a clanless, pink haired Omega medic who was the disciple of Tsunade; he would have her or no one at all. Regardless of his desires, he knew that she was probably on some sort of birth control, and their activities would be unlikely to result in offspring. Still, he lightly, possessively, ran his hand over her navel, and hoped.

“Glad to be of service,” He quipped instead of voicing any of his inner thoughts. He understood that he had feelings for her a lot longer than the reverse, and she would be intimidated by the idea of marrying him and bearing him offspring so soon after their first joining. If she became impregnated by this venture, hm, well, he’d not _lie_ to her. He told her he’d take care of her as long as she needed him, and he very well meant it. 

They lapsed into silence again, as he methodically licked the salt from her skin and she hummed contentedly under his affection. He removed her borrowed shirt, his desire for more skin to touch outweighing its appeal. Eventually his hand moved to cup lightly around her breast (just the right size to fit in his palm), the other resting where he hoped his seed would take, and he nestled firmly against her, his post coital marking sated for the time being. Her hands gripped at his forearms lightly.

He would have thought her asleep, but her breath patterns were not quite deep enough, though they were heading that way. She spoke, voice hushed, breaking their quiet. “Itachi, how long have you liked me?”

He was unsurprised she had made the connection. He hadn’t been particularly subtle in his passion, and she was very intelligent. 

“Hm, I took an interest in you shortly after your promotion to jounin,” He confessed easily. He was still locked within her, embarrassment over his feelings for her was the last thing he cared about at the moment, “However, I only started my affections after we served together with Yue-dono’s escort mission.”

She was quiet, absorbing the enormity of that detail. It had been the better of three years, after all.

“I guess that last time when you let me sleep while you were bleeding out should have signaled something was up,” she eventually said.

“Yes,” he agreed. Although, he still didn’t think his wound had been _that_ bad.

“Don’t do that again,” She demanded, and he smiled in her hair. She wiggled closer, sighed, then promptly fell asleep. 

After another ten minutes or so later, his knot had finally shrunk enough to that he felt he could slip free. He didn’t, however, pull out just then, not wanting to break their closeness just yet. They were also still on the bed, and he fastidiously didn’t want the mess to get onto the furniture. Eventually, though, he would have to move, or the option would be taken from him by the passage of time. 

Carefully, eventually, he maneuvered them both to the edge of the bed, keeping their hips as connected as he could while trying not to wake her. She grumbled at being awoken despite his efforts, and sluggishly complied with his light touches until he was standing at the edge of the bed, and she was bent over it. Hm, he may have to revisit this position later. 

He tugged, then pulled free with the slightest _pop_. She made a disappointed noise in the back of her throat, and he chuckled, kissing her spine. _Don’t worry, it’ll be back in you soon enough,_ he promised silently as he kissed her again. 

He took the strange yukata, and used a minor water release jutsu to wet it after cutting the material into a more hand-cloth sized pieces, happy to destroy the article. It had obviously been designed to be taken on and off without the manacles being removed, and Itachi purposefully did not pursue that line of thought. He returned and used the cloth to first delicately clean her of the excess of his passion, and replaced her legs onto the bed, tucking her into the sheets. He then cleaned himself, and the amount that had escaped her onto the floor. He allowed himself to be smug over the fact he was using _that_ _bastards_ clothing to clean up their lovemaking. 

He tossed the soiled cloth into the fireplace to burn later, and pulled his pants on, not bothering with a shirt. He created three new shadow clones to go patrol and find something for them to eat besides his dwindling nutrient bars. His other clones had disbursed at one point when he had been… distracted. There was a multitude of traps laid in the area from his first set, but he had to be alert in case of someone trying to get to his Omega. He would not allow that to happen, not while he was still living. 

Nutrient bars were designed to have all the tightly packed, calorie rich substances required for a shinobi on the run. Each bar was supposed to contain all the nutrients required to replace a full meal, and were able to be substituted one for one. However, they tasted terrible, and were not meant to be lived off of. Sakura likely hadn’t eaten a real meal since the breakfast he provided her, and so he grabbed his collapsible pot from his pack and his rice stash, and set about making her something with more substance. 

By the time the rice was halfway done, one of his clones had returned a few rabbits, already skinned, gutted and quartered. Itachi set about cooking the meat using some seasoning that the shinobi of Konoha called ‘Addy,’ as the clone began the process of fetching water for a bath. Official name long ignored, the seasoning went on anything, at any stage of cooking, was cheap to produce, simple to use, a little went a long way, and it had a longer shelf life than most ninja. But, well, it was... _adequate_. It wasn’t terrible, and it was better than nothing, but people rarely went for seconds.

Sakura stirred when the rabbit was finishing roasting over the fire he had started for that purpose, the smell likely having roused her even from her deep slumber. He was by her side before she finished calling his name, not wanting her to think she was alone. He bent down to mark her neck comfortingly, and she used the motion to thread her hands into his hair. As she began to nibble his ear, he took a deep breath through his nose—yes, her heat was definitely back on the uptick. 

He bit back a moan, and pried her fingers off. He needed to prioritize; she still had to eat, and likely to drink again, especially while her heat was still in the workup cycle. She whined as he pulled away, up until he sat her up and gave her his water canteen from where it was hanging on the bed. He used the distraction of her drinking to assemble the bowl of food and his chopsticks, and then sat next to her. 

“You need to eat.” He picked up a bite of meat and rice with his chopsticks and held them up, indicating. 

Sakura put down the canteen, gasping slightly as she finally stopped for a breath. “Did you make this? Oh, thank you.” She allowed him to feed her the first bite, and he smiled as she chewed and swallowed. “Is that Addy?”

His smile didn’t abate, even as he fed her another bite of rice. His Alpha was very pleased to feed his Omega. “It is the best I have at the moment.”

“Hm,” she hummed and leaned against him, chewing slowly. He adjusted their positions so she could more easily do so. She was still very naked, and he enjoyed the press of her skin against his. He wondered if she would be keen to the idea of never wearing clothes again. “Whoever invented Addy is a _hero_.”

“That’s probably the starvation talking.”

“Itachi!” She sat up abruptly, staring at him wide eyed. He saw the slight twitch of her lips as she struggled not to grin at him, even as her mouth was hanging open in shock. “Did you just make a _joke_?!”

He made a lot of jokes, actually. It was just that he was only comfortable enough with Shisui to say them aloud... and now her. “Of course not,” He replied, and fetched another bite for her, this time with some rabbit. “That’s you hallucinating from the Addy.”

She smacked lightly at his shoulder, laughing, and he felt a grin stretch from his smile in return. He was absurdly pleased with himself over making her laugh. He leaned forward and kissed at her ear to hear it again. She shrieked at the abrupt sound in her ear, cringing and giggling, and he wanted to chase her down to the bed and taste her smile. He gave her another bite instead, knowing she needed it. 

He fed her most of the bowl before she caught onto the fact he hadn’t made himself a separate one. She then fed him with her fingers, as he had refused to allow her to take the chopsticks from him; firstly because it was supposed to be _her_ food not his, and then secondly because it had been fun. Her tactict worked to a point, as he did eat the remainder, but him licking things from her fingers had quickly spiraled beyond simple sustenance. 

Now he had her sticky fingers in his hair as he was kissing her chest. Perhaps he should have just given her the chopsticks. 

He inhaled deeply between the valley of her breasts, feeling the tantalizing burn of her heat in his lungs. Oh, she smelled phenomenal; then again, she always did. It was a equal chance whether his nearly overpowering lust was fueled by her heat, or because it was _Sakura_ , or a combination of the two. 

He kissed her navel, running his lips over the soft flesh, before she seemingly caught onto his destination as her fingers tightened on his hair, “Itachi...? What are you…?”

“I’m getting my dessert,” he replied, and kissed the skin of her inner thigh. He could smell her arousal very clearly, even overpowering the burn of her heat, and it made his mouth water despite the lingering Addy. 

“You don’t—oh! I—ah!”

He used his hands to pull her thighs apart, and ducked his head in before she could finish her sentence. He first used his tongue to swipe at her slit, and he felt her jerk her hips. And oh, she tasted so very sweet, better than dango. He shifted until his shoulders were between her thighs, helping keep them parted, and used his thumbs to spread her lips enough for him to get a much better lick in. She twitched again, stuttering about it being ‘not necessary,’ and he hummed, then placed his lips around her clit and sucked. 

She stopped even attempting to protest as her hips jerked into his mouth, her hands almost painfully clutching at his hair. He sucked again, this time making certain to watch her face as he did so. 

Itachi slowly, joyously, took her apart with his mouth. He had dreams about having her like this, splayed out before him, her face flushed and glassy eyed, her want on his tongue. He found she liked it when he buried his tongue into her, curling it just so to stimulate the tight ring of muscles that marked her entrance. He found that she really enjoyed it when he licked her with a broad sweep of his tongue bottom to top, but when he followed up after a few to suckle on her pearl, he discovered he needed to hold her thighs apart, since she lost control over her strength and could legitimately harm him if he wasn’t careful. Itachi figured he may be just a tad bit of crazy in that he _liked_ causing her to nearly crush him to death. He liked the fact that she was most deadly when in close range, and there was nowhere to be closer to her than with his head betwixt her legs. 

“You taste so sweet, Sakura,” he moaned, lips not even leaving her, “Do you know how delicious you are?”

“I—please, I…”

“So gorgeous, laid out panting for me,” He tongued her pearl again, but this time he snuck a finger into her at the same time. She cried out, her hips jerking and he could _feel_ her tension, her release just on the edge. He husked, “Come for me, Sakura, be a good girl.” 

He curled his finger and pressed up, sucked and watched her shatter. 

Itachi swallowed her pleasure as his ears rang with his shouted name, his own cock twitching and leaking precum, demanding he do something about it. So when she relaxed from her trembles, her fingers carding gently vice trying to pull his hair out, he pushed himself up between her legs, and groaned as she _still_ immediately pressed up into him, as if he hadn’t just caused her to climax with his mouth. He bit at her nipple to hear her gasp, before he reached down and pulled her legs into the crook of his arms as he leaned up on his knees, his pants already stripped away. He rutted against her once, his engorged cock rubbing over her clit, just to hear her beg—which she did, quite beautifully—then angled his hips and slid in to the hilt. 

He moaned, eyes sliding shut as if to preserve the feeling forever. It was just as impactful as the first time, the way her body parted under him, so hot and wet and _his_. His entire skin buzzed, electrified as she dragged her nails down his chest. 

The pace he set was just as brutal as the one previous. He pulled her up to him with the grips he had on her legs, leaving her delectable bottom to sway freely. Sakura groaned, and he watched her stomach muscle flex independent of any other support as she angled herself to better receive his thrusts. She was amazing like that. 

He tossed one leg over his shoulder, freeing a hand to drop down and locate her clit nestled in her dark pink thatch. She cried out and shook, causing her breasts to jiggled deliciously, and Itachi smirked. “Do you like that?”

“Oh, yes!” Her hands clenched at the sheets under her, her hair beginning to stick to her neck. She flexed her stomach muscles again, and it caused a stutter in his thrusts, “ _Please_ , Itachi!”

“You’re such a good girl,” He moaned, unable to stop himself from moving faster at her beg. He wanted to make her cum again and again, until she was nothing but putty underneath him, but she was making it very difficult to remain focused. Maybe being direct would be best. He leaned down, intentionally lowering his voice like he had when he didn’t want to startle her. “I want to watch you break apart again, Sakura.” 

She shivered noticeably, and he felt it down to her cunt. She nodded as much as her angle allowed, then darted one of her hands to her breast and the other to her clit, pushing his away. He happily relented, grabbing up her leg again and watched with great interest as she rubbed herself. _Fuck_ , that was hot. He memorized the pattern she used. 

She thrashed under him a moment, her fingers tweaking, but then he felt and watched her orgasm overtake her. Her mouth dropped, her eyes closed, and her skin flushed from her cheeks down to the tops of her breasts. Her cunt spasmed around him, flooding him with wet warmth, trying to drag him in deeper. 

Quickly, Itachi reached down and yanked her up until she was mostly sitting on on his bent knees. She shouted at the angle change, and he took full advantage of the position to thrust up into her, short but quick and deep. He had to taste her neck, her mouth, watch her green, green eyes glazed with lust for _him_. 

“Ngh,” He groaned, “You’re so beautiful.” He plundered her mouth, sloppy, feeling her hands clutch at his shoulders with pinpricks where her nails were. He hoped she cut him with those nails.

“Please, please,” she gasped, begging, when he moved to work on her neck. She panted harshly, the sound lofting over his ear 

He bit her, hard enough to leave a mark. “No,” he dropped her legs, moving to grip her hips as she cried out again at the new angle change. “I want another,” he panted at her. He focused on ensuring his knot didn’t form too early, taking his fun from him, even as he _ached_ to lock to her again.  

“Oh, please, I-Itachi,” She used her newly freed legs to assist on bouncing on his cock, belying her own words. His hand pulled her hips to him, slamming her down onto him again and again. She gasped and moaned at a particularly hard one. “I don’t know, I-I—please.”

“Yes, yes you can, my Sakura,” _His, his forever,_ a voice inside his heart hissed. He moved a hand to play with her breast, mimicking with perfect motions how she had touched herself moments ago. His brain felt wrapped in cotton, her scent invading every pore, her touch on every nerve ending. He touched her forehead to his, “Give it to me.” His hand dropped from her breast to her clit, touching her as she touched her, but harder. “ _Now_.”

Sakura shrieked, her back arching severely to grind her hips to him. Her inner walls clenched at him again, and he _dripped_ with her release. 

He moaned, and couldn’t hold back again at the feel of her flutterings. He pushed her onto her back, and pounded into her, the slap of skin on skin nearly overtaking their harsh breathing. He pushed her legs flat on the bed, spread wide under him, and a distant part of his brain praised flexibility training. 

“Please, Itachi, please!” She gibbered as soon as her breathing allowed, her fingers clawing into his hair, his shoulders, his back. 

“Are you going to take it?” He murmured, voice haggard, feeling his knot grow swiftly. 

“Yes, please, yes!” She screamed, writhing as much as her position allowed, tilting her hips up against him to better accept his cock.

He pounded harder, his tie now large enough to prevent entry, making his thrusts abbreviated. “Take my knot? My cum locked tight into you, filling you up?”

“Please, yes!” She sobbed, torment in her voice. “Please! Itachi!”

Itachi watched her face, desperate to see how her face changed as she took all of him—his knot, his desire for potential children—deep into her body. _She wanted his knot, his seed, she was begging for it, she was his, she was_ ** _his_** _._ His hand left her clit to pull her hip to him as he pushed in, forcing the large piece of flesh past the tight ring of her entrance. He shouted as he breached the opening, feeling her body clench tight in an automatic response as they tied together. 

The sensation stole his breath as he climaxed, his balls releasing as much as they could into her welcoming heat. He clutched her to him, one hand on her face, watching her eyes as he ground his hips into hers repeatedly, his other arm wrapped around her lower back. She moaned and trembled with her own knotted release, green eyes blown wide, her hands clawing into his back. 

He collapsed onto her and kissed her with abandon, which slowed as their combined climaxes ebbed to a contented glow. They continued to kiss between panting breaths, a wonderful slide of skin and tongue. He eventually rolled, taking her with him to sprawl inelegantly over his chest, knowing his weight was likely hindering her breath recovery. 

“Wow,” she said concisely, her cheek pressed into his chest. 

Itachi huffed an amused agreement. He sighed, knew then he was in love. He _loved_ this beautiful, kind, intelligent woman, and he would kill anyone who touched her. He would write her poetry, he would give her all the umeboshi she wanted, he would provide for her and care for her, he would lay down his ANBU mask and spend the rest of his days worshiping her if she but asked. All that he is was hers for the taking. 

He kept his revelation to himself. 

His hands traveling the span of her back, his heart slowing back to normal. He kissed her lazily on her forehead above her Strength of a Hundred seal, his post-coital desire to mark her not as extreme as the first time since she already smelled like him. He kneaded her back gently, following the muscle groups, imagining himself doing the same during her pregnancy. She’d be so beautiful pregnant; her skin glowing, eyes sparkling with contentment, her body rounded with his children. His trapped cock twitched within her at the mental image. 

He kissed her hair, languorously marking it just because he could. Hm, that’s right; she hasn’t had a proper bath in a while. He kissed her hair again, thinking about washing it for her. Yes, he’d like that very much.  

He allowed himself to relax for a few minutes, lethargic after his climax, content to simply touch her as she dozed on him. His stamina had never been the best, and while he had greatly improved over the last four years, he still had difficulties and so he took a moment to recover. Eventually his desire to clean her grew enough that he gathered her carefully to him, not even waiting until they had been properly separated before he stood and made his way to the attached bath.

The clone had disbursed at some point, but had managed to fill the tub and had two spare buckets of wash water placed to the side. The buckets were chilled, but the tub was insulated and had been heated by chakra before the clone had dissipated, and still somewhat steamed. As fire was his first natural chakra inclination, heating the buckets would take but a moment and a careful release of his energy.

His clone had found a bottle of civilian shampoo and conditioner stuffed under the cabinet, and had laid it out next to the washing stool. It wasn’t the best scent, but it would be kinder on Sakura’s hair than the issued version he carried in his pack, which was really more of an all in one soap/shampoo/conditioner.  

“We could have waited until we at least untied, you know,” Sakura grumbled tiredly in his arms as he carefully settled onto the low stool. It was an awkward balance, but he managed.

“You need real sleep, not just the cat naps you’ve been taking.” He dunked his hand into the bucket water, and concentrated for a moment, forming the half-dragon seal until it was pleasantly hot against him. Then he scooped the washcup into the bucket, and carefully began to wet her hair down. “That would be better accomplished once you’re clean.”

“Hmph,” She laughed lazily, her mouth next to his collarbone; he could feel her smile. She hummed, groggy. “You are such a neat freak.”

He didn’t bother to reply, just continued to clean her. She didn’t ask him to stop, after all. 

He carefully washed her pink strands, working the soap to the tips. It smelled strongly of apples, clearly a civilian brand as shinobi most commonly used scent light or scent deadening solutions, to either not be obvious or to better mask their status designation. He rinsed her, then applied the conditioner to sit, which was a mismatched honey scent. He began to work on his own hair, which was still unhappily clumpy from remnant dinner. To his immense satisfaction, Sakura stirred again and assisted him, both by wetting it down and then by working the lather, her nails a pleasant scratch on his scalp. By the time they finished washing their bodies (working mostly on each other), their tie had shrunk enough to allow them to separate. 

With the last of the second bucket’s water, they rinsed off. Itachi carefully picked her up and took the both of them into the tub. It wasn’t a large tub, so Sakura had to sit somewhat cross legged between his raised knees, but he was far from minding. Sakura nestled into him, her back to his chest, and reached out with a hand to grip at one of his. He let her play with it, his other hand busy wrapping around her abdomen possessively, snuggling her to him. He sighed contentedly into her hair, lazily reapplying his marks to her as he enjoyed the heat of the water. 

He must have fallen asleep, because suddenly her hand was on his face and the water was noticeably cooler. He blinked slowly, then pulled his chin from her shoulder where it had been resting. His heart stuttered as he comprehended that he had _fallen asleep_ , someone could have come in while he was lax in his duty to protect her and _take her from him_ —

He paused, closed his eyes, breathed, and focused. His chakra perimeter traps—both distant and close—were still rigged, undisturbed, she was safe and in his arms, there was no one within sensing distance. He would not allow his overactive instincts to override simple facts. He reopened his eyes and locked onto her bright green ones, feeling her thumb swipe gently across his cheek.

“You need real sleep, too,” she was smiling at him so sweetly that he couldn’t do anything but lean forward and kiss her. He disagreed, but he didn’t say so. 

He pulled them from the bath, and took the towels from under the cabinet. They were musty, but serviceable enough. The water had washed a lot of the pheromones away, but even still he couldn’t stop touching her. That may just be him, though.

When Sakura went back to the bed, Itachi instead went to his bag and retrieved his brush. 

Sakura smiled, “First class treatment,” she hummed and moved so he could sit behind her. 

He first felt a flair of anger—it was not first class treatment, it was how Alphas were supposed to treat their Omegas—but he pushed it away without allowing it to reflect on his face. Instead, he brought the brush to his own hair and began to work the snags out, and put on as much of an innocent expression as he could manage. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is for me.”

She laughed, and tossed the pillow at him. He caught it, since it was the only one they had and he didn’t want it on the floor. 

“Oh, so you’re saying you don’t want to tidy me up?” She smirked, and rustled her fingers through her damp hair, forcing the locks into careless disarray. He watched the motion, watched how the position of her arms had ways of moving her breasts. “I know how meticulous you are, Itachi-kun.”

He warmed at her endearment, but kept his face inquisitive as he looked over her slowly, as if appraising. He was very pleased that she knew that about him, even if it wasn’t something he particularly hid. It meant she paid attention to him. “Hm, I don’t know, I quite like seeing you messy,” He stalked over to her, and leaned down to growl into her ear to feel her shiver, “Especially when I’m the one messing you.”

She squawked a protest, even as she giggled, as he used his hand to ruffle her hair. He felt his heart throb with affection, and brought his hand to her side to see if she was ticklish—she was, and she squirmed away from his fingers, laughing. This time, he did chase her down to the bed and taste her smile; it was delectable. Her heat was still in its ebb cycle, so the kiss didn’t turn impassioned, but he took his time anyway. 

Itachi then offered to brush Sakura’s hair, to which she accepted. When he was mostly done, that is when she broke the silence again. 

“You know,” She said somewhat hesitantly, as she leaned against him, “I’d never have expected you’d be into dirty talking.”

His hands didn’t pause in their work, though his almost meditative state was broken by her comment. His heart thumped, wondering where she was wanting to take this discussion. He had indeed indulged; now that her heat wasn’t overpowering her thinking, did she regret it? “Did you not care for it?”

“No,” She traced a hand on his thigh, a light delicate touch. Oh, she definitely sounded embarrassed, which caused a pleased curl in his chest. “I-I liked it. With your voice, it’d be a crime not to.” She smiled, even with her red cheeks, turned to kiss his shoulder quickly, before turning back around. “I just, um, Ino-chan, my friend, she told me about some of the dirty talk that she has had and, um…”

He put the brush to the side, and leaned against her back, kissing her cheek delicately. He sympathized with her embarrassment to bring up the conversation topic. He had barely been able to talk to her at all, preferring to flee if given the choice. He tried to be encouraging in his demeanor. “And?”

“I don’t want… that. No names, like-like, slut, or whore, or negative.” He kissed her again in encouragement. She sighed and relaxed against him, “I like it when you praise me, or compliment me.” 

He marked her neck, because he could, “I will never insult you.” He promised and wrapped his arms around her, and hugged her to him, enjoying her closeness. 

Eventually she fell asleep on him, happy and sated for the time being. Itachi kept her curled up on him, idly stroking his hand down her hair, back, and stomach (even disregarding his desire for children, touching her in such a vulnerable area pleased his Alpha on a very visceral level). He allowed himself a light doze—nothing too heavy, because he had to remain aware, in case someone tried to get in; and if they did, he would show them _why_ he was called the Death Crow. 

He kissed her neck and hoped this never ended.

**XXXXX**

Far too soon, Itachi awoke from his doze curled around Sakura. The sun peaked in through the musty windows, a muted light. It was the second day they were in the safe box together, and as he nestled his nose into her hair to breathe her in, he noted that her heat had finally broken. He was lethargic, sluggish, worn out from being on near constant alert during her heat, both for her pleasure and for any possible trespassers. He knew it was instinct, mostly, that caused him such stress, the paranoia that someone was going to come and take her from him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t affected by it, especially since she _had_ been taken from him not too long ago.

He kissed her awake, just happy to do so. Sakura stretched against him, still wonderfully naked. He took opportunity of her movement to pet down her stomach, where he had been very diligent in his attempts to impregnate her. The idea that she was, even now, carrying their child sent a thrill down his spine. Would they look like their mother, green eyed and pink haired? Would they look like him, harsh lines in a severe expression? A combination?

“Time to get up,” he murmured into her ear rather than voice his current thoughts. 

“Ugh,” she articulated. She rolled over, flinging her limbs over him and nuzzling her face into his shoulder.

“I will make you breakfast.” It was a testament to how sated his lust was after the heat that he didn’t feel an immediate stirring of his loins at the sensation of her legs entwining with his and her breasts against his chest. His body was recovering from their vigorous activities just as much as hers. Still, it brought him joy to run his hands up and down her back. He moved his lips to behind her ear lazily.

“Not more Addy,” she grumped.

He hummed and kissed her cheek, “I see you’ve come to your senses. But alas, it is what we have.”

She huffed, then crawled over him to get off the bed. 

He enjoyed as she stretched again, still gloriously naked, and went to the bathroom. As he had said, he began making the last of their rice, and the remains of the fowl that his clones had delivered yesterday evening. There was more meat than rice, but it still was serviceable.

Sakura had emerged wearing the spare set of his clothing, and he allowed himself to still be smug over the Uchiwa on her back, though he made no comment about it. He nuzzled a mark into the top of her hair and went to take his turn in the bathroom, grabbing his clothes on the way. 

It felt somewhat strange to be wearing clothing again, after having spent almost the entirety of the last 50 odd hours without any. He wasn’t much of a naked sleeper, even when he had moved into his own place, so it had been an interesting experience (he may pick up the habit if Sakura continued to grace his bed). He brushed his hair and tied it back quickly, then exited the bathroom to see Sakura distributing the meal into the bowls they had eventually discovered in the kitchen along with more chopsticks, which he was happy about because his hair would be spared future grubby fingers. As there wasn’t really a table, he sat next to her on the bed, close enough to still feel her warmth. 

They ate in mostly silence, which was hardly unusual for him. He noticed she was somewhat distracted, and kept fiddling with her bowl. It only got worse as their meal concluded, so after he dropped off the dishes to wash before they departed, he returned and wrapped his arms around her. He tried to ignore the worry in the back of his mind—now that her heat had finally broken, did she regret being with him? Did she want to let him down gently, knowing that he cared for her— _loved her_ —but did not match his feelings?

He forced himself to speak, “Something you’d like to discuss?”

“Um, kind of,” She was touching his forearms, rubbing along ever so slight scars there. He tried to remain relaxed as the silence wore on. “You’re very affectionate. More than I’d ever have expected you to be. I, um, I’m not really use to it.”

He had slowly tensed as she spoke, despite himself. He had definitely taken full advantage of this heat, indulging his desire to be in as much contact with her as he could. He could understand how she’d be surprised, as he did not touch others as much as was common for an Alpha of his strength. Alpha were very possessive creatures, and touch showed that possession in a harmless manner. From anywhere from brushes of shoulders, elbow nudges, shoulder grabs, to hugs, Alpha touched those they cared about. For Itachi, who always had a very small pool of bonded, that really limited those mannerisms. 

He very much wished to continue touching her. He was probably somewhat of a masochist when he asked after she had lapsed into silence, “Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” She wriggled, pushing herself more fully into him. He sighed in stark relief and tightened his arms, burying his face into her neck. “I _like_ it that you’re so affectionate. I just wanted to say… I, I’m sorry. I had never given you a fair chance, I was prejudiced against you without reason. And…”

“It’s alright, Sakura.” He kissed her neck, slowly working his way up her throat. He understood, he did, and he would have _words_ with his brother when he saw him again, but he was also just so very happy she wasn’t rejecting him. 

“It’s just,” She turned in his arms, and reached out with both hands to hold his face. Her beautiful green eyes were wide, and regretful with just a hint of trepidation. He froze at the look in those eyes. “I don’t want you to stop. I, I want to be with you, even after we return to Konoha. I want to give this a try, _us_ a try, like really. Do you, do you still want the same?”

He felt as if his heart could burst right then. “Yes,” As if he could answer anything else. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

She smiled, looking like the dawn, and kissed him.

He kissed her like he had dreamed of kissing her, as if she was delicate, as if she was powerful, as if she was the beginning and the end. He finally had her, _she was his_. 

Step two, done. 

(Shisui’s plan hadn’t been very complex.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will have also posted the first chapter of the omake after this, which is linked to this story. Go over and give it a kudos!


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